… Patients turn toward the old man as he stops wandering the walls and shouts out her name. For a split second, the fragile illusion floats over the entire ward. Then it settles, like dust, to the tile floor—leaving only the cadence of a ticking radiator to fill the space between each heartbeat.
Alvin wants to reach home before nightfall. Fugitive time is on the run. The warmth has left the sun. “This time my dear,” he whispers, “I’ll take my pills and do whatever you say.” Alvin slows to a stop and steadies himself—just ahead his house…
… Patients turn toward the old man as he stops wandering the walls and shouts out her name. For a split second, the fragile illusion floats over the entire ward. Then it settles, like dust, to the tile floor—leaving only the cadence of a ticking radiator to fill the space between each heartbeat.
Susan Reid
16/10/2020 08:30:38 pm
Well told story.
Mary Wallace
16/10/2020 09:48:53 pm
Sad little story, beautifully told.
Sue Clayton
17/10/2020 02:39:02 am
This breaks my heart. Comments are closed.
|
"Classic"
|