View in the Mirror

Another bit of writing based on a prompt. This one was inspired by Be Kind Rewrite’s Inspiration Monday prompt. Pop over and give it a try yourself. Here it is :

Rearview

Rearview (Photo credit: quinn.anya)

She had waited for so long and come so close to the end, her end, so many times. Something always stopped her, just shy of saying goodbye to the world. It wasn’t easy by no means. Somehow she kept hanging onto hope, when there was barely nothing left. Maybe it was the small glimmer of faith she hung onto. She guessed the reasons didn’t matter now. It only mattered that she had made it.

The chaos in her life was at least temporarily in her rear view mirror. Of course, this could be put both ways, figuratively and literally. She would no longer have to endure harsh days of words spoken in anger. Tears welled up in her eyes. She held them back. She wasn’t sure if they were tears of joy that she would finally have peace or tears of sadness that it had taken so long. Maybe it was a little of both. She looked in the mirror, watching the signs of town fade in the distance.

She took one hand off the steering wheel and lightly patted the suitcase in the seat beside her. One bag was all she had and it was more than enough. She would never have to see him or the town, where they had lived together, ever again. There had been some happy memories, but there had been such sorrow the last several years. No use, dwelling on the past. She turned the radio up and smiled slightly. All the pieces were finally falling together rather than falling apart. It was time.

Praying for Sleep

* This was written based on the Inspiration Monday prompt over on the Be Kind Rewrite blog. *

Restlessly she tossed in the bed. She reached over to the nightstand and pressed the button on her cell phone – 2:00am. Another night of trouble finding sleep. She used to never have trouble sleeping.

So many things were different from how they used to be. She used to sleep in his arms. Now he was lying a foot away, not touching, back turned to her, and snoring. It wasn’t the snoring keeping her from sleep. She had gotten used to it years ago. Part of the problem was the distance in more than just physical proximity.

The physical part wasn’t his fault. For the last several years his health had been declining. He felt pain everyday and even minimal activity made him short of breath. She knew it was hard for him to get comfortable, but she still missed him holding her.

It was a small wonder there was an emotional distance as well. His day-to-day focus had shifted to the necessities simply required for living life. She knew it had to be hard to focus on anything else when he had trouble breathing even sitting still and he tired so easily.

She had to stay in the present as well. Everyday she tried to make sure he ate, gave him his medicines including the inhalers, and tried to make him comfortable. She missed being able to dream. It hurt too much to dream and life was too uncertain. The busyness usually at least kept her from thinking too much, which kept away the fear.

Tonight she was afraid though and it was keeping her from sleep. Afraid of him dying and afraid of the future. Silent tears streamed down her face as she closed her eyes praying for sleep.

(I welcome any comments or feedback.  Fiction is not something I write often.)