Oh Frabjous Day

Friday, November 21, 2014

I lied guys

I wrote a story for you guys (trying it out with a less morbid theme)

Her eyebrows furrowed and her hand jerked away from the book. The old man sighed and picked up the book again, smoothing out the bent pages the woman’s resting hand had created. His glance brushed over her in disappointment as he placed the book back into the box.

Her lips twitched and a sharp gasp made the man look up. Her eyes slid over to the old man’s and it was then he saw it, the seedling panic that was rising to the surface of those glassy orbs. He saw it and shook.

‘Elizabeth! Elizabeth what is wrong?’

But Elizabeth could do no more than tremble uncontrollably on the bed. Her thin frame buckled and writhed amidst the secured white sheets and the box containing drawings of beautiful bower birds tumbled to the floor. Pages opening and creasing instantly, pressed flowers escaping and sliding beneath the bed, and a photograph, sliding away.

It fluttered behind the old man and landed face up in a rebellious ray of sunlight that had somehow surpassed the thick hospital curtains. It held two young adults side by side, a man in a tuxedo and a woman in a sweeping white wedding dress. They stood in front of a church that loomed over, casting their joyful smiles in a shadow.

‘Elizabeth, stay with me!’

As if in a daze, he heard the distant shouts of alarm as doctors and nurses rushed in. He was pushed aside and could only watch on as the old woman gasped and gagged. He could only watch on as she was wheeled away, surrounded by wires and monitors that beeped pathetically. He could only watch on as her gasps stopped and body stilled.

Left behind, the old man stood alone in the corner. A nurse tentatively approached him, her bleached gown matching the walls,

‘Sir, were you related or associated with the woman who was here? Did you know her? We have some documents a family member should fill out but if you want you-,’

The old man turned towards the young nurse, his sunken eyes wavering with unbidden tears. He hesitated as an image of the woman in her youth flashed before his eyes, her face sunken in the fluorescent lighting,

‘Mario… just leave. I’ve moved on and so should you. I don’t want you wasting your life on me!’

He collected himself before turning towards the nurse and replying in an unsteady tone,

‘No beg your pardon; I must have the wrong room.’

Labels: storytime