Thursday, November 05, 2009

Bookends of a Life: II



Only the steady thump-thump of the hissing machine, valves pressing and depressing against your will, remind me you are here. Like you, I dress in white; like you, many patients call me angel and I guess I am, administering to their wounds and sighs and bedpans and now, ministering to you, embellishing the chart with your vitals, watching you waste to a shrunken, wheezing vessel. The clacking ventilator reminds me of the ice cubes rattling in your highball the nights I nagged you to stop, your hands jittering between the glass and the cigarette, but your yellowed fingers stabbed and twisted the butt into ashes, proving you did not love me - enough. You moan and turn your withered face to the weak gasp of winter sun bullying its way through the window. It’s only a matter of time, I rationalize, and fiddle with the tubing, adjusting the flow. The morphine races down to the catheter in your wrist and I wonder: Mama, did I love you enough?


Originally published in 6S: Volume 2, 2009.

Peace, Linda

25 comments:

  1. "Wow" is right. You hae captured it beautifully. Mmm, mmm, mmm.

    Peace,
    Cindy.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You definitely know how to pack a punch into a very short space. :) I love how it builds momentum, then slows down just a bit for the thought crowded out before: "Mama, did I love you enough?"

    ReplyDelete
  3. What a knock in the face there at the end, Linda. Yet another great piece.

    Jai

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ouch! I'm glad I've given up the ciggies!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Wow. What a bookend. The angel of death. One can only wonder the scenarios in the middle. Fantastic, Linda!

    ReplyDelete
  6. So much POW in this flash!

    Amazing writing.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Wow Linda, a heartbreaker of a story, and what a perfect ending!
    Love it!

    ReplyDelete
  8. A VERY effective slice of flash - strongly emotive!

    ReplyDelete
  9. Beautifully executed, Linda. Another sad and satisfying flash,

    ReplyDelete
  10. Truly powerful prose, in both style and content. I look forward to reading your published novels.

    ReplyDelete
  11. You have so many voices inside you, Linda. Each have their own distinct voice with your poetic lilt. I love reading your slices of pie flash. This is excellent.

    ReplyDelete
  12. I've read this a few times already. Only the most powerful pieces prompt me to do that.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Great piece of flash, Linda. Very tight and charged. Perfect companion to last week's bookend.
    ~jon

    ReplyDelete
  14. "watching you waste to a shrunken, wheezing vessel" That creates such a strong image and there's so much of that in this tiny little story that is, what, maybe 150 words, but is as fully wrought as a novel. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing it.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Awe, she didn't love herself enough, another child left to feel guilty for something she couldn't fix or change. Beautiful prose, heartbreaking moment.

    ReplyDelete
  16. One of your best yet, Linda. I don't know how I missed it on 6S. Let me go retweet this now.

    ReplyDelete
  17. The winter sun "bullying its way" - that's fine writing.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Thanks all for reading and commenting. Both bookends have personal roots(don't all our writings?), their genesis sprung from a never-ending year sandwiched between caring for my children and my parents. Peace, Linda

    ReplyDelete
  19. Great piece of flash fiction. You manage to fit so much inside such a short space.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Wrenching story, Linda. The good ones, like this, leave you thinking. Sometimes dreading.

    --John

    ReplyDelete
  21. Thanks for reading, guys.

    Uh, yeah. When our loved ones suffer, I think we all contemplate euthanasia - or at least it's possibility.

    I promise before the end of the year to write a 'happy' flash ;^)

    Peace, Linda

    ReplyDelete
  22. Another fabulous piece, Linda. You have such a delicate way of writing these scenes. Truly a gift.

    ReplyDelete