When she curls up in bed the blankets envelop her like a cocoon. This was where she felt most safe. There was nothing in her dreams she couldn't do. In her world nothing could harm her.
After her long days working, she felt that she needed a reprieve. She needed some time off for herself, time she hasn't had for years.
The following morning, when she woke up, she called into to her job,
"I won't be coming in today."
"Why not?" asked a rough voice on the other end of the phone.
"I think I got food poisoning last night, I just don't feel well. So I'm not coming in."
"Are you sure you can't make it? We really need you to be here today."
"I'm sure."
"Ok, well feel better."
She drifts back into her vivid world. A world where her husband is still there for her.
She wakes up again to her phone ringing. She gets up out of bed to answer the phone and collapses to the ground. Her mind was still dreaming, but she was back in reality. She forgot that she was paralyzed from the waist down. It had all happened so recently that sometimes she forgets. Fortunately for her, she keeps her wheelchair nearby.
A tear rolls down her face and falls on the carpet. It disappears into the carpet just as fast as it manifested itself.
The phone has stopped ringing.
Struggling, she pulls herself up into the wheelchair. The seat was still stiff and hadn't yet conformed to her body. "In time" the doctor said. He said it would be for comfortable in a month, but it was not. It never has been, it never will be.
The voice mail light is flashing on the phone.
She picks up the phone to check the message:
"You have one new message and one saved message. Press one to listen to message."
She presses one
"New voice message; "Hey Sissy just calling to check up on you. Heard you called out and wanted to make sure you where okay. I know that you are still in a weird place right now. I guess I just wanted to tell you that if you need anything to not hesitate and call me. Call me please. Love ya, bye."
"To delete message press seven."
"Message deleted. Next saved message."
"Hello my flower. It's me. I miss you and am looking forward to tonight. Remember be ready by seven and I'll be there to pick you up."
Another tear rolls down her face as she listens to the message and falls into her lap.
"To delete message press seven, to save message press 9"
She pressed nine, again. The same was she has done for months now. It was the only time she will ever hear his voice again, and she can't bear to lose him.
comments and criticism are welcomed contact via twitter: @sbdavids
