Tuesday, August 9
The ashes of her cigarette piled up as she stared out the window from her living room. What a bleak name to call such a room, she thought to herself as she waited for the steam to rise from her morning coffee. If this room promised such lively things why must we just sit and wait for such occurrences instead of adventuring out side the four bland walls and into the unknown? She tapped the building ash from her cigarette, inhailed deeply and then squashed the rest into an empty mug, causing it to fall and become forgotten. She exhaled and watched the smoke linger and full the wide emptiness that seemed to shape her existence. She wondered when the pages of her life lost its ink, when did they become just lines of unwritten words? Where did all her memories go? Were they trapped in a photograph or were they simply hiding outside. She stared out the window once more, watching school children laugh and fall in love, teenagers making new experiences behind the houses that were filled of family's and growth and she sighed, knowing her time was up. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she started to wheel herself away. But as she did, her wheel hit the mug that had dropped to the floor and it caused her flimsy wheelchair to tumble to the ground. She lay on the floor helplessly and called out for someone to help, but the only someones she had, she had pushed away the moment her legs gave up so long ago. So she laid there, unable to get up, knowing that in this damn living room, would be where she made her final breaths.