“Mr. Jacobs?” someone says. Roger tries to answer but can’t talk, can’t move a finger. His eyes seem glued shut. “You try,” the voice says.
“Honey, do you hear me?” Roger recognizes the voice of his wife, Carolyn.
“Roger, you’re in the hospital. You had an accident.” Roger has no idea what she’s talking about. “This man is Dr. Johnson.”
Continue reading “In the Blink of an Eye by David Henson”
The first man in this story, Carl Savage, stood at the end of the ward in a veterans’ hospital in Central Massachusetts: the second man, bed-ridden, stared at him, fighting for a splash of recognition. There was the way that man shrugged his shoulders, looked back over one as if he had missed a targeting mark. The second man moved in his bed; a slight movement barely noticeable. He had not moved much in almost twenty years. He wanted to call out, but he knew no name; but knew something; it spun up out of him as if it were the last chance in the whole world. The man at the end of the hall halted his departure and turned around slowly in his departure. The second man in the bed began to move one finger. One finger! One finger as if tapping on a key, tapping, tapping, tapping.
Continue reading “The Vet by Tom Sheehan”
literally stories 