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
Posts
Wow. Gillian
ReplyDelete"Wow" is right. You hae captured it beautifully. Mmm, mmm, mmm.
ReplyDeletePeace,
Cindy.
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?"
ReplyDeleteWhat a knock in the face there at the end, Linda. Yet another great piece.
ReplyDeleteJai
Ouch! I'm glad I've given up the ciggies!
ReplyDeleteWow. What a bookend. The angel of death. One can only wonder the scenarios in the middle. Fantastic, Linda!
ReplyDeleteSo much POW in this flash!
ReplyDeleteAmazing writing.
Wow Linda, a heartbreaker of a story, and what a perfect ending!
ReplyDeleteLove it!
A VERY effective slice of flash - strongly emotive!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully executed, Linda. Another sad and satisfying flash,
ReplyDeleteTruly powerful prose, in both style and content. I look forward to reading your published novels.
ReplyDeleteScary in a very real way.
ReplyDeleteYou 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.
ReplyDeleteI've read this a few times already. Only the most powerful pieces prompt me to do that.
ReplyDeleteGreat piece of flash, Linda. Very tight and charged. Perfect companion to last week's bookend.
ReplyDelete~jon
"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.
ReplyDeleteAwe, she didn't love herself enough, another child left to feel guilty for something she couldn't fix or change. Beautiful prose, heartbreaking moment.
ReplyDeleteOne of your best yet, Linda. I don't know how I missed it on 6S. Let me go retweet this now.
ReplyDeleteThe winter sun "bullying its way" - that's fine writing.
ReplyDeleteThanks 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
ReplyDeleteWow. Powerful stuff.
ReplyDeleteGreat piece of flash fiction. You manage to fit so much inside such a short space.
ReplyDeleteWrenching story, Linda. The good ones, like this, leave you thinking. Sometimes dreading.
ReplyDelete--John
Thanks for reading, guys.
ReplyDeleteUh, 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
Another fabulous piece, Linda. You have such a delicate way of writing these scenes. Truly a gift.
ReplyDelete