Wearing Army t-shirt and shorts, Michael sat in a wheelchair on stage, his leg stumps showing so all entering the Walter Reed activity room could see. He spoke. “We soldiers share the experience of missing skin and bones. At twice your age I lived the hopelessness and depression you may be feeling.” He turned sideways in the chair, swung himself to the floor, and put on the prosthetic legs lying there. Then using the chair for support, he stood up and walked around. “I’m proof you can heal and become friends with whatever prosthetic you need. You’ve got this.”
Written in response to Charli Mills October 24, 2022, prompt at Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about bones. It can be any genre or tone. Is it spooky, irreverent, or poignant? Go where the prompt leads!