“H” Hijacked by Matt Harrill and Help for Orphans of Ebola

front-cover-229x348 hellbounce

She was left alone in the car. It was night and there was nobody about. The sense of unease had not lessened, and the same strange smell of iron permeated this car as it had the other.

Eva got out, looking for Sajhid. Nothing. She was completely alone. Presuming the answer to lie in the trunk of the car, she walked to the back and popped the catch. The lid sprang up and a waft of carrion assaulted her nose. A large object in the rear of the car was the cause of the stench. Flicking on her torch revealed dark stains everywhere, and the size of the object caused her to pause. It was about six feet in length, curled up. A man.

Leaning over to examine the body, Eva was careful not to touch it. He looked as though he had been torn apart from the tears and gashes in his middle. His head was at an irregular angle, his face fixed in a silent scream of horror. The blood was everywhere.

This confirmed what Eva had begun to suspect. Sajhid was not the driver. This man was. As she flicked the torch off, and closed the trunk, she thought back over the conversations they had had. He didn’t really know anything about her and the others until she had supplied the information. His views on the attacks, the strange happenings. They were far too whimsical for somebody set against the evil that threatened to overwhelm them all.

She was still alone by the car, and for that she was thankful. Now she only had one thought. Escape. This Sajhid was driving her where she wanted to go, but for a completely different reason.

Getting back in, the interior light showed her to have blood all over her hands. Taking a bottle of water, she rinsed them and wiped them off with some tissue. She cracked the door open to dispose of the evidence, Sajhid stood just outside. Eva screamed.

“Are you well?”

“I was freshening up. You startled me.”

Eva wrapped the tissues in a bundle and tossed them nonchalantly to the foot well. “There’s so much mess here I don’t really think a couple of tissues will matter.”

“Indeed. We shall sort out the mess soon enough.” Sajhid got back into the driver seat and started the engine.

***

The journey from that point onwards for Eva was one of confinement. Sajhid drove too fast to allow her to jump out without serious injury, and as night faded and the sun began to rise, the early morning seemed that much colder for her predicament. She had no idea where they were driving, except that Madden and her only hope of salvation were ahead.

The air inside the car was stifling, and as the day began to warm, Eva moved to open the window.

“I would not do that,” Sajhid warned. “Accidents can happen when windows are open too wide. You should just leave it shut.” He kept his eye on her, barely looking at the road.

At first, she stared back, but the whites of his eyes widened a little too much; it was clear now exactly what he was. Trapped, Eva began to lose hope. She would go where he wanted.

***

This is the second installation (excerpt from the novel Hellbounce)

 *** I will be giving at least one of Matt’s books away. So each comment ( for Matt’s G- L) counts toward winning!***

Matt Harrill is the author of the trilogy TheArc Chronicles.

Matthew W Harrill lives in the idyllic South-West of England, nestled snugly in a village in the foothills of the Cotswolds. Born in 1976, he attended school in Bristol and received a degree in Geology from Southampton University. By day he plies his trade implementing shareplans for Xerox. By night he spends his time with his wife and four children. (and he writes sci-fi horror).

I have a delightful interview of Matt as well. He really is an interesting chap and his writing is to die for…

Chat with him on twitter @matt_harrill

You can find Matt on Amazon and will be glad that you did!!!

 

The HELP – As we get closer to finalizing the book “A Song for Liberia” , we will need  people/ bloggers to help to share about the book.  As I was sharing with a friend the other day, few people realize that there are at least 10,000 children (the reported numbers are low) who are now orphaned because of the Ebola epidemic.

Others who are enjoying the A to Z Challenge as well:

340.
352.

In Tune #poetry #kindness #devotion

award shooting star

There’s a star in the sky

 one you’ll never quite see

but it shines all the same

perfect voice tuned to “C”

*

you can’t hear what she sings

but the song is her own

she calls the disheartened

to draw near home

*

I met this fair one

not long ago in a dream

she called in the dark

I was lost so it seems

*

Radiance poured on a path

one that I’d never used

and I stumbled in the dirt

over unlaced running shoes

*

on my knees I looked up

and I saw a bright light

it came with a song

what a beautiful sight

*

“you will make it

I can see

not too far now

past those trees

take a left

then a right

you will find hope

past the night”

*

Then I saw it in a smile

someone waving all the while

open arms rescued me

finally safe, darkness free

***

“It is always darkest just before the day dawneth.” –  Thomas Fuller

Have you ever stumbled in the dark? It seems most of us do.  Have you ever been picked up out of the dirt? I have and am grateful for those gentle smiles that graciously moved me on my way.  If you have ever stumbled and been helped back up, remember to look for others who can use a simple act of kindness to help them continue on their way.

Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. Hebrews 13:1-2

Sharing with the Poet’s United  Poetry Pantry because they are such a welcoming bunch and Godinterest cuz it’s a place I share thoughts.

What Can I Do??? #homeless #non-fiction #relief

I can not sit by

doing nothing

my friend she needs help

and the  wee one too

living in a shelter

well they did

the count down has begun

another woman takes her number

next in line for a few weeks

it’s a rotating door you see

more needs than people to help

not enough numbers

for those in line

more children with nothing

no unspoken for coats

as winter ensues

I too have no job

I have been offered a roof

a place to lay my head

and not worry about tomorrow’s

TRIALS

except for the trial in my heart

What can I do for her????

Please tell me

SOON!!!!

This is not fiction – I just got an email from a person who is one of us. You have read her in blogs or tweeted her on Twitter she is without a thing.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/97335141@N00/4525219617/

The Day After… ( look at the poor during the #holidays)

Did you ever think what happens one or two days after you deliver the bountiful basket of groceries for a family in need? I have held both ends of the basket. I’ve delivered many baskets and  received many too. I know the feeling as a child to see the delivery from kind hands and hearts.

After working with the homeless and poor in public health, my face falls when the basket is empty.

Many thanks for those of you with generous hearts this holiday season.

Go to One Shoot Sunday for poems and a photo prompt regarding this subject

my poem : “The Day After” is there

***

Today an abundance

of turkeys abound

potatoes in boxes

twenty-five a pound …                         oh there’s more at One Shoot

Open Her Eyes #shortstory #microfiction

She had a dream every night; it was a sweet dream. She would be caught  in the ferocity of the sea or the quiet majesty of the mountains. Strong arms would wrap themselves around her.

A soft whisper, “I have found you ” would penetrate her heart.

He would turn her so she was facing him. With one finger he would tilt her face to the heavens. His lips would caress her forehead, graze her nose, and rest on her moist lips. His touch would send signals through the core of her body. She would return his warm touch with her own soft nuzzling. Her tongue would lightly graze the edges of his lips …

The dream always ended there.

When she awoke there were the remnants of tears on her cheeks.

“It’s always the same. The worst dream is better than my my best reality. Why do I need to ever awaken?”

“Who is this man? What does he want from me; what can I give to him?”

The next night she was on the back of a horse; a man on another horse would race toward her swinging her into his arms as the horse lunged forward. The rider would urge his horse to graze as he opened her eyes to the beauty of the dew laced meadow. His hands would comb through her dark hair causing a surge of ecstasy. His lips would always rest on hers; his hands would hold her possessively. Her eyes would search the contours of his face for something wrong; it was ~ perfect.

The words “I love you” would be balanced on his lips but not quite uttered before the dream dispersed.

Her heart, during the day, would try to break from the absence of this man in her dreams. Would she ever find this man she yearned for in reality? Would she feel the warm pressure of his lips against hers? Was she cursed by a man who loved her in a dream? She started to fight the dream to yell at the dream.

“I will not succumb to you any longer. You cause pain in the waking hours and only whisper promises of ecstacy in the night glow. Go away!”

And so they drifted away.  The dreams became more of a thought. The dreamer walked in a daily cold, stark reality.

“What have I done?” she mourned. “Now my waking and my sleeping bring pain.  Is death the only freedom from this?”

She went to sleep that night trying to evoke the dream. It was a vapor not willing to be recalled.

One day she allowed herself to dance in a meadow she had discovered. Hours seemed to pass. She laid on her blanket; the warmth of the day lulled her  into a dreamless sleep. She smelled the flowers, she heard the breeze, she felt his touch. She laid in her reverie and soaked in the essence of him. It was back; he was back. Not wanting to rush her dream; she laid quietly enjoying his presence. She felt his lips, she smelled more than flowers – manliness; he tasted, hmm,  salty and moist.

Her senses had allowed her to go further than ever in her dream. For fear of losing, she willed herself to never in this lifetime wake up. He tilted her head and opened her eyes. She gazed into his face delighted that he seemed so real. It had been so long since they had been together, if only in a dream.

As his lips descended on hers, he murmured “I have found you at last. Love me -don’t ever drift away into a dream again.”

She opened her eyes, she touched his lips, she felt his strong hands.

“You are a very vivid dream today – good sir.”

“As are you fair lady, but today I believe we have awakened from our reverie and found something more permanent.”

“Today will you leave this dream world and awaken to a life with me?”

She was afraid; she did not know love outside of  her dream nor did she know this man apart from her dream. She must hold tighter to her dream ; it was trying to trick her and pull them apart.

He held a lifeless form of beauty in his arms. Long dark hair cascaded over his arms, lips parted beautifully waiting for the kiss he dare not take in case that would remove her last breath. He willed her to revive and be his in the world on the other side of their dreams.

“HELP ME” was his anguished cry.  He hoped against hope that someone from the dream world or reality world would have the key to his happiness – to hers.

He went on a quest with his beautiful dream looking for the world where they both could be together.

This Story was originally submitted for: Theme Thursday .

It’s not too late- Go!!! (to Haiti)

It is NOT TOO LATE. If you feel CALLED to go to Haiti GO. GO! GOOOO! It is tough work, but GO! I will help you.”  Shaun King

I’ve heard this before with other humanitarian efforts – there are pallets of relief supplies and no one to unload them, Medical supplies sit on a dock for months waiting to get to the right people, the big organizations are a presence but they can’t do it all.  People are always needed to give compassion and care…

Right now the people in Haiti need to know that someone cares!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How can you help?

How can you help??? If you are in a position to get on a plane, boat, train, helicopter  – Go!

There are many things you can do. Unpack relief goods, hold orphan babies, encourage people who are at the end of their resolve.  Need I say more?

Be Ready

If you can’t go (like me) ,tell others, pray, be in a position to go if there is an need somewhere else. I’m getting my shots in order, registering with Red Cross again, and getting my CPR & First Aid instructor licenses reinstated. I will be ready for the first call – hope it never comes.

Need a contact? contact this guy @shaunking he’s in Haiti!!!

Infuse with HOPE (another “I” in a series)

Need for Hope

With all the stuff going on in our world, I was thinking about the need for Hope. I’m cheating a little with “infusing hope” – I know you will excuse the stretch. Hey infuse is an ‘I”!

Hope is not an easy concept to tackle (at all!!!) It’s abstract and hard to grasp on a good day.

Defining two words:

Infuse (verb) to imbue or inspire

Hope (verb) to believe, desire or trust

Hope – Why?

Why infuse hope? Without hope despair can tear at the strongest of characters. Each living Haitian needs hope. Why?  The man looking for his wife– even a shred of hope is keeping that man going. A mother is aching for the arms of her little one. She has an inkling of hope in the rescuers– in life…

The Haitian community has to have hope. They need to believe that the dust can be transformed into charming buildings with trees swaying in the back ground. They need to trust that children will play in the fountains; the marketplace will again be a place to share local gossip.

Without that hope, the people in Haiti will give up. Dirt will be layered on top of another layer – paradise will be gone.

The Infuse Part

How can we infuse hope into our community or in communities that are suffering around our world???

What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? Are you adept in construction? Help someone (locally) whose house needs repair.  Are you creative? Maybe you could make goody baskets for shut-ins. I recently wrote a radio script about a woman, with cancer, who made encouragement baskets for people who were going through difficult times. Are you a teacher? Spend a summer in a third world country teaching English so others can get ahead.

Through my travels, I have friends around the globe.  When there is a tragedy, I can get money direct to people who need help rather than going through channels where everyone’s hands are out. So there’s an excuse to travel.

Don’t Give Up!

With the world and the economy  in a tailspin, how do we regroup? One earthquake area is patched up and a Tsunami tears through another island. An epidemic hits the world in a matter of months. It would be easy for  people to feel like throwing up their arms and saying enough! What more can I do?

Some people turn to God in situations like these others to good feelings some give to research or…

I have to hold on to the idea that there is a strong, omnipotent being who is taking care of me or I would not be able to get up from the next personal disaster.

Whatever your source of strength may be, don’t give up hope while there is still life to hope for.