Ruth Aliza
Stories (4)
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Sissy Johnson
John’s arms and legs had been cleaned and Frank was gently assisting him to remove his shirt when Jack pushed through the crowd that still stood speculating around the tent. “You’ve gotten quite popular, brother,” Jack laughed, and then saw Sissy and John. “Miss Johnson!” he greeted, surprised to find her in one of the men’s tents, though it was his brother’s. “And who is this?” Jack smiled kindly at the boy and handed Frank a letter from Mrs. Richardson.
By Ruth Aliza4 years ago in Fiction
Sissy Johnson
Some few days later, the wounded were transported to the rail and began their trip to D.C.. Sissy squeezed the hand of one of her young patients as his stretcher was picked up by the orderlies to be taken to the ambulance for transportation. He had cried a lot, but silently, attempting to be brave during his stay in the medical tent. Sissy was certain he had lied about his age in order to enlist. “That’s the last of them, then,” she said to Eleanor, joining her and Orderly Newton as they stood speaking together. Jack Richardson smiled to the group as he turned back from the ambulance.
By Ruth Aliza4 years ago in Fiction
Sissy Johnson
When had everything changed? Shells exploded in the distance and the sound of men dying and horses screaming filled the air along with the acrid smoke of cannon fire. Plume after plume of dark grey shot into the air from the opposite ridge and Sissy’s hand involuntarily clutched the cotton of her skirt that caught gently in the tall grass which waved in contrary serenity to the violent events unfolding nearby.
By Ruth Aliza4 years ago in Fiction
