The Promise (A Slightly Older Fiction Story I Wrote)

        I still felt the pain. My right arm didn't extend very well now, yet I couldn't stop here. The past fifty or more attempts didn't work, yet I would try again. The rocket would not fire properly, so I simply kept tweaking the wiring and the fuel mixture until it did. We were on the breakthrough of a lifetime: an engine source powered entirely on cooking grease.

         Reaching in my pocket I pulled out the notes from my mother, along with her locket. The one that had her picture. I extended my arm the best I could then straightened it up. I looked them over and thought of her. She simply wanted to help people and cancer cut that hope short. I plugged a light in the socket nearest me and looked over what was already done. Rubbing the pain in my arms from misfires I poured the new cooking grease mixture in. I stepped back after turning it on, said a short prayer, and hit the switch. Everything finally worked! A new way to power planes was made! I turned it off, then looked over the locket again, remembering to fulfill the other promise to my engineer mother: take care of yourself I remembered as I left for the doctor to get my arm looked at.

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