Challenge: Write a ficlet with the sentence: I Smell A Winner!
She was so nervous, standing in the rehabilitation room, alone. The therapist had thought it best to keep the room private.
This would be the make-or-break deal they’ve been waiting for; to have Lenny come home.
The doors creaked open and admitted Dr. Ellen Aaron and her husband, Lenard Brass, wheeled before her.
“Hi, baby!” he smiled. She could sense his pain; she could see it in his face. Iraq had been evil to him. Taken his right leg and concussed his head.
They’d taken so much from HIM ! From HER !.
She pushed aside her anger. She wasn’t here for herself. No, she was here for him!
Lenny had to come home; she love him so.
“Hi,” she offered weakly. He was the tower of strength for her. And she DID feel weak!
She swallowed; and turned away.
“I’m fine, hon!” he said.
“Ready?” said the doc.
He sighed, “Let’s do this.”
He grunted and, pushed himself out of his chair, and grunted on a limp leg and willed himself to walk.
With each step, the doc smiled, “I smell a winner!”
That was my husband!