The granite like tiles made no sense for a hospital floor
Why would gold sparkling specks against cloud-white belong?
The phone in the waiting room would ring ever so often
Giving reassurance and the latest updates to prevent undue worry
Coffee was free along with a soda machine that took plastic cash
Faux leather chairs and sofas spread across the room for resting
And then there was an elevator where two men in scrubs got out
To make their way over. "It doesn't look good," one said
"No! Try your best. Go back and fight. Make it happen!"
Prayers, tears, agony, pleading, phone calls, and hope
But once again, the elevator opened. Time of death 12:23am.
About the Creator
Shirley Belk
Mother, Nana, Sister, Cousin, & Aunt who recently retired. RN (Nursing Instructor) who loves to write stories to heal herself and reflect on all the silver linings she has been blessed with :)
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More stories from Shirley Belk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Oh no. That's a glimpse into a world of sadness. The waiting, the delivery of the message and that last statement hits hard, Shirley.
This was so sad and emotional. Sending you lots of love and hugs 🥺❤️
Oh no. That would be hard but I imagine at some point the docs get used to it? Giving the news? I’m sure you wrote this from experience- I’m sorry.
COOL