Read Brilliant Stories - One Minute Reads (OMR) Page 5

was going on. My mind was a mess from all of the excitement of doctors and nurses fussing over me.

  Eventually after three days of being prodded, poked and constantly stabbed by needles I was told my heart had almost stopped and I needed an operation to have a pacemaker implanted.

  Another doctor, this time a specialist, Cardiologist, performed the operation and thank goodness everything was a success.

  Without this operation I would have passed away in my sleep that night if my wife didn’t persist on me seeing a doctor. That was twenty-two years ago and to think if I hadn’t visited the doctor when I did, I wouldn’t be here to share with you my story. God bless all doctors and nurses for their dedication to their calling.

  Word count: 425

  Then There Were Three

  Fairy tales have been with us since childhood. Remember those three little pigs whose house was going to be blown down by the big bad wolf.

  This version is a little different. In this fairy tale there are five little pigs. It’s a game I normally play with my grandson who is fifteen months old.

  He holds his little hand out; I hold it in the palm of my left hand and with my right fingers touch his index finger and say, ‘this little piggy went to market’. His smile and laughter almost takes my breath away.

  With the next finger I say, ‘this little piggy stayed home.’ And continue onto the next finger I say, ‘this little piggy had bread and butter,’ and the next, ‘this little piggy had none.’ For the final finger I say, ‘and this little piggy went way, way, way up here,’ travelling my finger along his arm and tickling him on his neck underneath his ear.

  His giggle is infectious and I hug him with delight.

  When we play this game my mind wonders back to the nursery rhyme ‘three little pigs’. The first pig wanted to build his house of stray and it was blown down by the big bad wolf. The second wanted to build his house of wood and it also got blown down by the big bad wolf. Whilst the third pig built his house of bricks which the wolf huffed and puffed and couldn’t blow his house down.

  After the battle of not destroying the third pigs house, the big bad wolf left, then there were three pigs left to live together in the brick house without worrying about the big bad wolf huffing and puffing and blowing their house down.

  They all lived in harmony safe and secure from the big bad wolf. Is there a lesson to be learnt from this nursery rhyme?

  Word count: 323

  Describe A Story You Like

  Since December of last year I now have a kindle reader. It’s one of those e-book reading devices. All I do when I see a book I like to read; is to click onto the website, select the book; and presto the book is electronically downloaded to my kindle reader. I read it like as if it is a printed book but in electronic format.

  Daily there are thousands of ebooks downloaded to these devices. When I select an ebook, the cover needs to take my fancy. This particular ebook ‘Sagebrush’ immediately took my attention. It is a western. I read the bio of the author and noticed he was eighty-seven years old and only started writing after he’d had a heart attack and his family bought him a computer.

  Wayne ‘Bill’ Dickson is the author. He’s written and published seven books. In his book ‘Sagebrush’ he immediately captured my imagination and attention by the way he wrote his story. Wayne is a very good storyteller.

  His main character is Michael, a twelve years old travelling with his parents to make a new life in the wild-west during the eighteen hundreds when Indians attacked them. His parents were killed leaving Michael alone and an orphan. He made a pledge to avenge his parent’s deaths.

  Throughout the Indian attack he saw his father being killed by an Indian. His mother killed when an Indian smashed a Tommy-hawk into his mother’s skull. Lucky Michael hid under the overturned wagon and out of sight of the attacking Indians or he would have suffered a similar fate. Each Indian who passed the overturned wagon Michael kept a mental picture of the face and description. They would get their just rewards for killing his parents.

  When all was quiet he climbed out from underneath the wagon and buried his parents. Carrying sufficient food and other implements he walked into the bush. After some time he discovered a cave. Here is lived for the next six years growing into a man. His survival based only on his daily hunting for food, listening to bird life and noticing how animals behave.

  His strength grew; his skills for hunting increased. It was time to avenge his parent’s deaths. Dressed in a mountain lion skin; he stole through the bush and to the Indian camp. His animal instincts told him what to do and as a hunter, he avenged his parent’s killers by slaughtering those Indians who killed his parents.

  Along the way he met an Indian Princess and fell in love. A child was born. Michael pledged to return to take care of his child, but other things happened.

  His story concluded happily. He found another love and lived happy for the rest of his life. I was so enthralled by this book I wrote a review and thanked Bill for writing a great and interesting story.

  Word count: 487

  I Knew Something Was A-foot

  This story takes me back to the early seventies. At the time I was a police officer stationed at Stanthorpe. It was common to work alone, particularly at night.

  New England Highway bypassed the township of Stanthorpe weaving its way through Severnlea toward the New South Wales border town of Wallangarra.

  Also in those times the role of contacting police was via the local telephone exchange. Before the officer went on patrol, he contacted the telephone exchange to let them know he would be absent from the police station and to hold all telephone calls.

  This particular night, without the knowledge of the telephone exchange or the officer-in-charge, I attended a show society meeting. I didn’t let anyone know where I was. This meeting finished and I returned to the police station to find the officer-in-charge at the station, ‘where the bloody hell have you been, there’s been a fatal road accident at Fletcher with an overnighter.’ He screamed at me when I walked into the station.

  He appeared upset. ‘Neil is diverting traffic through Eukey. We’re going to the scene.’ He commanded. I stood as if I was a stunned mullet and didn’t know what to say or do.

  We drove to the scene along the New England Highway which took us about three quarters of an hour during which time the officer-in-charge never said a word, only looked directly ahead. I was driving. My mind numb, I had no answer only thinking I should’ve attended the meeting in police time.

  Rounding a bend, emergency lights flashed, contents of the overnighter spread across the highway. The front of the overnighter truck embedded against the centre wooden pylon of the overhead railway bridge.

  I parked the police vehicle in a suitable spot and activated the blue lights. Instantly I identified emergency officers from the Ambulance and Fire Brigade.

  Inside of the crashed vehicle was a male – deceased. Members of the emergency services were trying to get him out of the vehicle. He was on the passenger side. Eventually together they moved the front of the vehicle to release the deceased.

  ‘His foot is missing – go find his foot.’ The officer-in-charge yelled to me. I began a search looking through the darkness with a torch barely able to shine sufficient light to see. A voice called out, ‘I’ve found it.’ I turned and knew something was a foot.

  ‘Get the foot and put it in the boot of the police car.’ The officer-in-charge, with a lower voice requested. I placed the foot still encased in a boot in the rear compartment of the police vehicle. Unfortunately a couple of days later I’d forgotten about the foot and couldn’t work out the smell in the police vehicle. I opened the boot to find the foot. It’d been there since the night of the road accident.

  Word Count: 481

  Gossip

  As Colleen Smart would say in the television programme ‘Home And Away’ ‘tell Marge Wilkins and the whole Bay will know about it in no time’. She should talk. Colleen is noted for her
spreading gossip.

  This is similar where I live. We have about one hundred residents in the village and if you want anything spread quickly than tell one of the residents and presto before ten minutes is gone the informal grapevine is alive and well, telephones are ringing, e-mails are buzzing across the airways and the word spreads faster than a bush fire with a hundred mile gale behind it.

  What makes people gossip? I suppose to make themselves feel important. Throughout my life I’ve lived in many towns and communities and each one has there town gossiper.

  I remember once many years ago a gossip started in a small community where I lived of certain men meeting once a week down by the local river and getting up to mischief. It was a slip of the tongue how this news broke however the damage to the men concerned had a devastating effect on their families and businesses and the town itself.

  Actually it all started as a joke, this joke got out of control and when one thing lead to another names were mentioned. These names were connected to some of the senior business people in the town.

  Suspicion spread like wild-fire and before anyone knew three of the mentioned people were arrested and charged with offences relating to the gossip. In the end one of the business people accepted guilt whilst the others walked free. They never recovered from the blame and shame of the gossip.

  I well remember the morning after Queensland Police Force was