by Jules Archer
It's that quiet comfortable darkness. One should feel it often and necessarily. I'm briefly reminded of my time in North Dakota. The nursing home where my great grandmother lived. Cement parking garages and yellow headlights. We walked in darkness, hand in hand, until we reached elevators. The journey to her room long. I was afraid, you know. Hating antiseptic and the old. An ageist you called me, laughing. I tugged your hand, bouquet of flowers in my other. It's not funny, I said. It's true but not funny. You lead me down the hall and we entered the room. White sheets pulled back across the pillow. Blank picture frames. Window shades drawn. A nurse came in. I'm so sorry, she said, she passed. It's too late. I pressed firm fingertips against my lips. Silently mouthed thank god.
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Inspired by a dark morning. And true tales.
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whew...seriously...Jules ...been there...a bunch of times. You tell this story well and with all the humanity, pain, heart, peace, love and soul that is part of walking down that road... ...and with gratitude for all of us being alive ..and that's the way the story ends. Beautiful! *
Oh, man. Well done.
So good to read you here again Jules! Great piece. Like Michael, I've been there.
Fave.
What they said.
Fist to the solar plexus. Hits the mark straight on. Lovely.
Good writing, Jules - "White sheets pulled back across the pillow. Blank picture frames. Window shades drawn. A nurse came in." I like this piece.
Total fave on this, Jules. Very visual, I felt as if I were right there.
Well done and far too close for comfort. Great pacing.
Wonderful concision of ideas and images, Jules. Liked this much.*
Fine work.
You make me feel with this. Everything. *
Powerful, very visual piece.
Jules, I can so relate. The whole scene terrifies me. You told this so well. Terrific flash!
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Powerful and so compact, Jules!!! Really took me there! ******
Loved this. Who hasn't been there or will be there?
Nice.
Great telling, not sensationalized just really real.
sure,
why not say it?
*