Joe Dispenza Accident Novels & Stories

“Look kid, I am sorry, but you will have to play along. We did not really do this at our free will. We were threatened to let the boy live else we would be killed” the doctor explained to Joe. Joe sat on the bed, he looked bereft and did not say a word. For a fact, he knew his accident was only an attack and not a mistake of the driver. How does he let the family know that Pablo Picasso was after him? “Discharge me!” Joe ordered at once.

I looked at Joane as she held the gun in her hand. She chuckled and put it down next to her on the couch. "We are sorry if we scared you, sweetie. Your father told me about why you came here." I looked at Daphne and then at them. "He did it, didn't he?" "It was an accident," Joane answered, glancing over at Daphne. "If it was an accident, he wouldn't have run away! Do you even know what I had to go through after that incident? I just had a miscarriage and had to bury my fiance!" Daphne snapped.

"Mr Joachim was a Member of the national assembly and as a politician, he was bound to travel a lot so all thanks to him, I traveled a lot too." "And Stephanie's mother?" I demanded. We then got stuck in traffic and Joe wasn't driving. "She lives here." "In Greenland?" "Yes. She has her own mansion in the city." Joe told me. "So you worked for Stephanie's dad and you are working for her husband?" I asked even though it was evident. Joe was silent for a while. He heaved a deep sigh. "My Boss Joe died in an accident. We were together, I was driving then something hit our vehicle from behind. He was sitting alone behind and next thing I remembered was the car sommersaulting and..."

Jojo bit on her teeth as her whole body became painful. She shook her head, a tear falling from her eyes. “Something is wrong with me,” she said. Penny was lost for a second, and it was the same time that it took Jojo to pass out. “Jojo!“ Penny called in fear. “Someone help, please,” she shouted and tried shaking Jojo awake. A few students rushed over and helped to bring her to the school dispensary. But the doctors there were shocked. They couldn't diagnose anything.

Rowena asked. "My assistant has had an accident. I need to go now," Johnny answered and walked out the door, feeling sad about his new sports car. "Is it serious?" Rowena asked. "Yes. A guy died in the crash. I need to go now. I'll come find you tomorrow," Johnny said. After Johnny left, Rowena switched on the television to watch the news. If the accident was very serious, it would be on the news. It was, and it had happened not too far from her hostel.

Hanging up the phone, Javen looked up and said to Cassie, 'He had an accident and is now in the emergency room of this hospital. Cassie's hand shook and she almost didn't hold her phone steady. 'What? Did Telly Smith have an accident? ' 'It is estimated that after knowing this news, there was no state during the game, so there was an accident.' Javen lifted his feet and was ready to go out. Cassie took his hand and said, 'Why don't I go with you?' 'No, Jones Davis needs someone to take care of here. Just wait here and I'll see for myself.'

Joseph wore an oxygen mask and spoke in a muffled voice, "What happened..." The doctor said, "You got injured, were taken to the hospital, and remained unconscious for seventeen hours."

I said to him in a low venomous tone, my eyes glistening with the thin stripes of mischief in them. I had to go back to Madame Browne, that bitch! She was the one I'd entrusted with cleaning out each and every one of the evidence with, she told me she'd cleaned it and now… The president knew about the accident that happended 32 years ago. The date of the event hung to my mind like a tattoo etched into my skin. December 22, 1992. It was almost new years, 9 more days to go if I was calculating wisely.

Like the strange and miraculous case of Joey Spencer, for instance. Joseph Spencer was one luckless child. In his brief ten years he had already been through a kid’s own private version of hell: bronchitis which developed into double pneumonia, a bout with rheumatic fever, the lengthy divorce of his parents and even being hit by a bus once and knocked clean off his banana-seat Schwinn. He’d survived all of these, and had actually come out none the worse for wear. But when his inflamed, abnormally oversized appendix had burst on the playground, that fall day of Katelyn Jane Franklin’s inaugural year of school, he’d gotten lucky. Pure and simple. Because Katie had been close by, and she . . .

I sat on the edge of my bed in the gray London light for a long time before I finally pressed play, my thumb hovering over the screen like it might burn me. Julian's voice, when it came, sounded different than I remembered, rougher, stripped of the polished calm he wore like a second skin in every boardroom and every anniversary dinner I had endured for five years. He told me about a driver named Desmond Ruiz. He told me about Penelope, confirming everything Eleanor had already relayed in careful, secondhand pieces. He told me, in a voice that cracked once, audibly, near the end, that the accident that had cost me my legs and my career had never been an accident at all.