Now. NOW. Nothing. There is nothing. Look at me. Breathe. SqueezE my hand. LoOk. My hand. NOw. sQueeze. Breathe. This is not the day you die. Not today.
breathe
The call handler had said to pull him from the chair onto the floor. So I did.
Till death do us part, I had said. But it was not to look like – this. When we stood together in the presence of friends and family twenty-eight years ago who would forever hold their peace. I never imagined. This. Head flopped between the rusting radiator and steel chair legs, lifeless torso outstretched below the dining table like a powerful leopard ensnared unaware. No, I never imagined this.
breathe
that’s all. you have
Red Malbec – tannic jammy juicy sits savoured on the table with the empty glasses and artisan bread and…
No!
This will not be your last supper.
Rise! Rise!
Red wine cheap – acidic – poured from cartons in the back of our van. Remember how we sipped it from our tarnished tin cups? Giggling, entwined in thick, swirling woody smoke. Red red spitting flames casting light on our dark corner of the African bush…Hemingway! Hemingway!
“I never knew of a morning in Africa when I woke up that I was not happy.”
We will go back to Africa and wake up happy. I wrote it here, see, in my ‘these are good quotes to use’ Moleskine Notebook – Pocket Size – for moments like…
breathe
that’s all. you have. to do.
We laughed when you bought that pink t-shirt something different, something new, and now they just sliced it in two. Defibrillator and sticky pads and stretcher. Flashing blue lights wailing finally we are here. We got this now. But they didn’t got this now. Say goodbye, they said, they meant – Goodbye. That one. You know – The Final one. There will be not another Hello – Goodbye. I moved my head down between the tubes and wires to your unresponsive face, peeking above the pale blue honeycomb blanket. Say goodbye, they said. This is not the day you die, I said. Not today. Not like this.
breathe
that’s all. you have. to do.
it’s all. you have
You imagine there may be some warning. A Final Notice. An invitation even – RSVP. There’s not. They just – appear. There in the corner of your sight, like an expectant parent, waiting, DEATH. No clatter of hooves or waving of a scythe. Not even a black cloak. They were just – there.
You are not taking him I said I won’t have it not today we have things to do, places to go.
DEATH was – silent.
breathe
that’s all. you have. to do.
it’s all. you have. to do.
A bright orange blaze of sunlight glinted on two tarnished tin cups. Life. Awakening.
