May #WritersPrompt – So This Is How It Ends
Crumpled, dust-streaked white shoes abandoned in a corner. Her shoes. When I notice them, I think to myself I must be dreaming. In this place, warfare is being waged on all the senses and it’s hard to know what to believe anymore. Screaming alarms, bright lights that probe and reveal but illuminate nothing, urgent, whirling motion – it all reeks of acrid helplessness.
Surely they can sense it too? Despair. I can feel it like a crushing wave, buckling my knees and threatening to drown me. There she lies, a life wasted on unfulfilled promises and dreams, dreams that were nothing more than mirages – hope seen at a distance. What does it matter now? There are no more dreams. This is a nightmare.
On the emergency table my mother is dying and all I can think is, ‘So, this is how it ends.’