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Archive for November, 2009

 

There are many who find themselves afraid of the day to come and others who lazily take each step as if it matters not which direction they turn. In light or dark the decisions made for this or that are either decided for them so there is of little use to be creative, or they are unlucky enough to have no control over these decisions and become frightened of the unknown things to come. Yet, there are others still. Those who purpose their steps regardless of what is happening around themselves neither lazy or fearful. These are they who more often times than not become leaders. But, what kind of leaders? Champions of good or of evil? Selfish or selfless? And are these characteristics born in them or does circumstance mold them into who they are and what causes they promote?

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Summer’s Beach

Another cough and he sprung out of the chair beside his wife’s sickbed so quickly she had little time to search for a cloth to cover her mouth. She was so much paler now, as if life was fading from her through her pores, taking pigment along with moisture in its evaporation. She took the cloth and coughed a bit more managing a smile when the fit seemed to subside. He smiled back, if possible, more weakly than she. A slow process this evil was enacting, and though she was the one suffering physically, his own strength and hope were being equally mortified.

The doctors knew nothing more now than they did months ago. So many diagnosis abandoned. Strange and horrible sounding names they used to describe his love. He almost believed the tests they ordered were as much to blame for her depletion than the unknown illness. Yet her eyes still glistened and wept and drew him in. Candlelight was all she could manage now without suffering untold anguish as if the light itself was a fire to her brain. The sun outside the thickly covered windows had become his enemy as well as it seemed to be in alliance with whatever was inside her … hurting her.

“I need my slippers.” His smile stood perched and he squinted a little knowing she must want to wash. A painful time for her was coming, and he could do nothing to prevent it. Pulling his face from hers, he bent to find her slippers and hide his fear. She couldn’t walk any more than he could turn invisible, but her slippers gave her some comfort, maybe they warmed her feet, so he did as bidden. He would carry her to the bath and place her in the tub to wash her. There would be no thought as to how careful he would be with her. He would be perfect. She smiled a little more when he pulled the sheets back to slide the slippers onto her feet. “Remember that summer on the beach in Florida?”

“Yes, my heart.” Of course he remembered. It was the summer they met and though it was many years past, he could remember every breath that escaped her lips. How her chest would rise and fall as she breathed. How the sun captured time around her. How thrown flip-flops at some pestering boy had missed completely – one hitting him in the chest and the other in his face. All of it was remembered. All of it was as gold.

He left her only a few moments to begin drawing the bath. When he returned, she was staring at the framed photo on the dresser beside the doorway. It was a photo from that long ago summer. Both were much younger though neither thought the other had lost any amount of appeal. “I want to go back with you.” She almost whispered. “Say we’ll go back there.” His eyes began swelling, his jaw firmed.

“We’ll go soon, my heart.” He meant every word of that lie.

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