Imaginative Journey.
Date Submitted: 09/10/2006 02:33:46
The woman sat. As the piercing beeps grew louder and louder and the doctors and nurses rushed in - she sat. She didn't speak, she didn't cry, she didn't laugh and she didn't try to help. She just sat.
As the minutes turned into hours and the hours into days, the nurses worried - the bed was needed; after all it was only a public hospital. They'd offered care, consolidation, coffee and counselling, but nothing
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began to realise that she was slowly forgetting her treasured Ruthill, forgetting the time they'd spent together, all their memories. For all she could remember were his last few sad, awful months spent in the bed beside her.
And with this in mind, she picked up her handbag, stood up and walked out, choosing not to stop at someone else's destination, but favouring the continuation of her own journey, thereby allowing him to live on.
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