Lorraine and I are pleased to announce the availability of our first collaboration since 2006. “Reflections on Life and Love”, a collection of memories and short stories, some fictional, some true, is now available as an EBook at http://www.kdp.amazon.com/kindle store/Lorraine and james ory theall/, for only $2.99. The book can be read on most personal devices (androids, etc.). The book description on the Kindle web site reads:
“Lorraine and James Ory Theall have captured old memories and found some surprising revelations in this collection of short stories and poems, some true, some fiction .
In her stories of growing up in Council Bluffs, Iowa, Lorraine recalls those special moments, some humorous, some sad, and some nostalgic, spent with family, friends and neighbors. Her recollections are sure to jump start the readers’ own memories .
James, as well, has delved into his childhood and adolescence in Louisiana Cajun country, and the progression of blindness. He expresses deep feelings, some even surprising to himself, about family, friends, love, marriage and children, employment, and the struggle with the loss of his eyesight.
The Creative Fiction section of the book, with contributions from both writers will provide entertainment and even further insights into the complexities of life.”
Here are a couple of excerpts from my short contributions:
By James Ory Theall
“I leave the bedroom to go downstairs and adjust the thermostat. Bump, bump, bump!
“Oh, my God! What happened?” she shouts.
“I fell down the stairs,” I whine. “I think my wrist is broken.”
Sure enough, it is. Paramedics come, fire truck and all. They put me on a stretcher; roll it down the steps (bump, bump, bump, bump.) Then into the ambulance. More bumps. Into the Emergency Room.
“Bump that sore throat. We have a real emergency here,” a buxom, haughty nurse orders. I know she is buxom because she leans over the stretcher and they rest on my chest…”
ROAD TRIP SURVIVOR
By James Ory Theall
“How about the casino?” I ask.
“No, I’d rather do this,” she answers.
6:30 Saturday morning! We assemble at Roberts Manor, an independent living facility for the handicapped. I’m angry. I follow my nose to the coffee pot. The loudspeaker jars my brain before I can pour sustenance.
“We leave in five minutes, guys.” Guys? Aren’t the gals going?
Adult legroom is nonexistent on the school bus built for children. I sit with my back to my wife and my feet in the aisle as we proceed.
Our volunteer guide immediately begins a ridiculous descriptive narrative to the busload of blind people, their sighted spouses and companions.
“On your left is the Ford dealership, next door to Albert’s Cafe. The right side is Apex Manufacturing and blue and white trucks are backed up to the dock.”
A damp coldness nudges my hand. A dog, unharnessed, settled under my legs. An unpleasant aroma stings my nostrils. The brazen service canine whines.
“I’ve got a guide dog under my legs. Anybody lose one?”
“He’s mine,” a voice across the aisle said. “It’s okay. He doesn’t mind.”
“You don’t understand, I mind!”…
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Meanwhile, “Merci beaucoup pour votre temps, mes amis!”