Joseph P Garland (@JPGarlandAuthor) flew the highest this week and takes his ninth win!
Check out his story below and congratulate him on Twitter.
Congrats on your #SwiftFicFriday win @JPGarlandAuthor! Check out his flash piece and show him some love #writingcommunity
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As I cradled the stranger’s head in my lap I prayed. I’m not a prayerful sort but I dug down and silently exhorted whatever power might be to make it just work out. “I don’t ask for much, Lord,” I said, my lips barely moving and my eyes focused on what was happening in front of me, “but please make this work out.”
She, the stranger whose name we didn’t know, was leaning against my chest in the makeshift bed Carol and I quickly improvised in the back of our Subaru, the back seats down and a blanket spread on the hard surface. My partner was doing what she could, and the voice on the phone was instructing. “Breathe. Breathe.” As I rubbed the stranger’s shoulders.
Where was it? Where was the siren? The lights? People who knew what they were doing, unlike us, who’d been waved to the side by the desperate woman on a quiet stretch of Route 18.
Carol, the quicker of us, understood and went into action while I stood like my normal idiot. Now I was rubbing the stranger’s shoulders and telling her she was doing great. “You’re doing great,” though I had no idea if she was. Mixed in with my silent “please make this work out.”
I heard it first. The approach of the siren followed by the blue and red lights prismed in the late evening mist. “Thank you, God, thank you, God,” I said as I looked at the roof of the Outback.
A tall young man took my place and a squat woman took Carol’s and they said it was too late to move “them” and Carol and I stood by the side of the road exhausted and praying and then, when we heard a cry, celebrating.
FictionTrials 
congratulations, Joseph…
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