When It Hits The Fan!

By: Lorraine B.

Ó 2003

All Rights Reserved

Anxieties

By Lorraine B.

Ó 2006

All Rights Reserved

Chapter Thirty-nine:

I awoke several hours later in my bed. The nap I took seemed to have
relieved the vomiting and the upset stomach I had prior to lying down.
I felt like my old self and I felt energetic. I stripped out of the
ship's uniform I had on, placing the articles of clothing into the self
cleaner adjacent to my closet. At least I thought to myself, I wouldn't
have to do any laundry as I did back on Earth, which didn't bother me
in the least to do.

Chapter 1

The sun was going down it was fall, yet winter was quickly approaching, the wind was picking up and the temperature was dropping. The current of the river was running fast below the old railroad swing trestle bridge called Suicide Bridge, the bridge was named by the locals due to all the people that took their own lives from it. I for one almost became a statistic when I first came here. It took forever to climb the bridge due to the ice storm that hit as I walked along the old railroad tracks, as the elevations were higher here in this area to some degree. The county cops normally heavily patrolled this area from sundown to sunup but during any lousy weather the cops all hid. I had scored really big this time dumpster diving carrying ten large sacks, two with food and the rest with clothes and a set of luggage. I had made several trips to hide my loot near the bridge of course we all know those in need are the invisible to most that see us. Looking down at the rushing water seeing that the current was swift and strong I made it to the old bridge tenders shack after climbing out on the rusted girders and ladder. I found the hand holds and climbed them to the top of the bridge to open the old trapdoor in the floor of the old shack that hadn't been used since they automated the bridge. I was happy the day I found this place several months ago because I was cold, wet and homeless and this was shelter for me from the elements. The old shack had a bathroom and shower with running water and electricity, since I turned it on, an old wood burning potbelly stove that warmed the place and it was home to me, at least for the time being.