Out of Destruction – 6


It  was lying on that cot, exhausted, drifting into sleep when I realised I needed to get a name of someone about my age who died.  I needed to claim to belong to some rescue organisation from somewhere else.

When I woke up, I went to the Portapotty or whatever it is called. I remembered a girl who died at the age of fourteen.  I thought of using her name as my identity, then realised I could go to a cemetery, go grave to grave, get a name like Angel, instead of Doris Blumberger, the girl who died.

As I considered, I recalled one of the other emergency worker talking  about their ad hoc rescue squad which always came when there was an  emergency, be it fire, floor, storm, whatever.  I invented a similar group from somewhere else, somewhere far enough away, but not that far,  a place I hadn’t heard named.

I’d claim I had been in this city on that day for personal reasons.  And as soon as I  heard the news, rushed over.

I would fill my life with bits from other people’s lives.  People I had known decades ago.

I went to work, and then, at the end of the day,  when we weren’t needed, Cord said that he’d be moving on.

I suppose my face spoke.

“You ever go fishing?”  He asked.

“Nope…but  I’d like to.”  I replied.

He smiled;  “I was hoping you’d say that.”


What do you think?


Written by jaylar

Story MakerYears Of MembershipContent Author


Leave a Reply

Leave a Reply