Andrew C McDonald
Bio
Andrew McDonald is a 911 dispatcher of 30 yrs with a B.S. in Math (1985). He served as an Army officer 1985 to 1992, honorably exiting a captain.
https://www.amazon.com/Killing-Keys-Andrew-C-McDonald-ebook/dp/B07VM843XL?ref_=ast_author_dp
Stories (299/0)
- Top Story - August 2022
Ring of Nature
One day I was walking through the forest near my village looking for some cool rocks for my collection. There’s a small lake in the woods where sometimes me and my friends would go to cool off. It was on the edge of the lake where this story begins.
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Fiction
Javier's Shuttle
Putting all his strength into it, Javier pedaled faster as the cold November wind blew in his face. Plastic cards clipped to the spokes made a constant rat-a-tat-tat. Around the corner was his destination. Braking to a stop, Javier hopped off his ratty old bike - a single speed, once red and black now faded to a mottled pinkish and grey, that had once belonged to his cousin Mark – and leaned it against the wall. Placing hands against the plate-glass he pressed his nose to the cold surface and drank in the sight. In the window, illuminated, shining like a beacon to safe haven in the soft glow of the strung lantern above …, the fancy lettered sign saying “MOST OF THE BEST, SOME OF THE REST” there it was. Shining silver with blue retractable wings; three actual rubber wheels on metal legs that folded up into compartments; red cylinder at the front with the yellow and orange ASTROMAN logo; tail fin rising majestically from the back complete with movable flaps and Jupiter Force Team insignia; three conical ports jutted out the back. A battery powered engine blew warm air out the ports so it would roll on a smooth surface. An Astroman Supersonic Space Shuttle. So close, so awesome, so … Cool! If only he had the money. If only Dad hadn’t got laid off last year. If only… Sighing, the warmth of Javier’s breath misted the cold glass. Absently a finger doodled in the damp cloudiness thus created.
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Fiction
Bad Vibrations
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Unfortunately, the same could not be said within the pressurized compartments of a mid-size mining ship such as the Darkling Quasar, affectionately known as DQ by most of its crew of forty-two.
By Andrew C McDonald2 years ago in Fiction