Cascading to the sea

This flash relates to "Back Pocket Wishes," which I posted March 19:

Cascading to the Sea
By Laura McHale Holland

I came from the land behind the waterfall until the drones split ears, hearts, flesh—and washed my tribe away. Except for me. Five years old. I was plucked from a thunder cliff and dropped in a Disney Channel family a continent away.

Now I'm a chameleon handyman, gardener, chauffeur. My boss blackened his whimsey wife's eye after she locked their daughter in a closet all day.

“The brat cries too much,” the wife had said.

I want to pluck that child from the back seat. Take her to the waterfall. But it is now only a memory cascading to the sea. And I need this job. I cannot protect her from her parents approaching the car, let alone the bombs still falling from the sky.

###

All of the episodes in this series in the order in which they were posted follow:

Back pocket wishesCascading to the seaRight through the heartAway today?A dime a dozenShe doesn't know themOn the seatA pillar of the communityHe needs a friendDouble rainbowThe one he always wants to hearGive it some timeIt gives my life meaningSmilesExtenuating circumstances The four of us