Reaching New Heights

Photo Credit: Shashi Penumarthy

Photo Credit: Shashi Penumarthy


(a shadorma)

Do not be
afraid to become
who you’re meant
to be…you
must stretch your limits, extend
your wings, and you’ll fly.

P. Wanken



Posted for 100 Days of Summer 2014 (Facebook Group): 37 ~ Red.


Author’s Note: 
Thank you to fellow challenge contributor, Shashi Penumarthy, for letting me use his photo in my post.

The Death Of A Man


image courtesy of Digital Blasphemy

image courtesy of Digital Blasphemy


by P. Wanken

The drive home was taking longer than expected. Exhaustion from a whirlwind of activity following Dad’s death doubled each minute, lengthened each mile. I may not have graduated from college as Dad hoped his only son would, but I had always been a sensible and responsible driver and knew that I couldn’t change that now—except the nearest town was still at least two hours away, and I needed to sleep.

Pulling over to the side of the road I made sure no part of my car was still in the road. There wasn’t a lot of space, but I managed; and I left my parking lights on just so I could be seen in the darkness of the night, unlit by the new moon.

Just a short nap was all I needed; reclining my seat back, I quickly drifted off.

Not knowing how long I had been out, flashes of light caused me to bolt upright in my seat. Rubbing my eyes and blinking them into focus, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Fireballs, falling from the sky—more than I could count!

Having seen enough “end of the world” stories played out on the big screen, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was it. This was how it was all going to end. I would die along the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Alone.

Pinching my eyes closed in spite of wanting to see what was happening, I prayed. I wasn’t exactly praying one of those “in-the-face-of-doom-bargaining-with-God” prayers. But I certainly saw my life from a perspective of what was important and what wasn’t. I had just buried my father, for goodness sake. Death was very fresh in my mind. I prayed that I would have a chance to make something of my life.

My life mattered and I wanted the chance to live in a way that mattered.

Bird songs filled the silence—beautiful, melodious bird songs. Opening my eyes again I was startled to see the sun had already risen above the horizon.

It was morning? Had I prayed all night long? What became of the fireballs that had rained upon the earth? Had it happened? Or had I been dreaming?

I stepped out of the car and stretched my aching limbs. I listened to the sounds of morning. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was a light breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckle. The only thing that seemed different—I felt renewed. I remembered my prayer and my desire to live a life that mattered.

Settling back in behind the wheel, I smiled, remembering the care Dad had taken in growing honeysuckle in his garden.



Written for Flashy Fiction — Image Prompt: Tears From Heaven. Posted for day 83 in 100 Days of Spring – 2013.