A Narrative


Sparrow was scribbling about at schoolwork early on in the semester, and for her composition class she was asked to sew together a very brief narrative piece about visiting a hospital. The purpose was to convey emotion through description, and she could choose to describe a visit to a family member soon to come home, or an elderly relative on their deathbead.

Naturally, she chose the depressing one. Wouldn't you?

I post this for little other virtue than the mere sake of doing so, I suppose. If it causes you to slip into my same moony, reflective mood - well, I would say I am sorry, but as I'm not completely adverse to the feeling myself, perhaps I shouldn't.  

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My hand jerked away from the door-handle and I clenched my fingers, tingling from the metal’s coldness. At least, the handle had seemed cold. Yet as I reached out my hand to turn it once more, I could see that my fingers were trembling.

The door swung open slowly—oh, how slowly!—into the hospital room. I knew what I would see when I entered; the whitewashed walls, starchy bed-linens and cold, hard floor were all familiar to me now. And as I stepped inside, I braced myself for the blankness: the whiteness, the whiteness, the—

Gold? I blinked, my gaze turning to the window. The shade that usually kept the room in dimness had been lifted, the crisp white curtains drawn apart. The glow of the sunset was spilling through, dancing like burnished pennies upon the pale walls and filling the room with a warming glow.

At first I did not understand. I could not; the room had no right to look so cheery, the sun no right to be so warm. But as I looked through the pane at the horizon, suddenly, somehow, it made sense. The light of the setting sun was not vibrant—it was dying. Soon it would be gone, and the beauty with it.

As I knelt next to the hospital bed, I knew that it would not be the only beautiful thing to leave me soon. But as I reached a wavering hand over to the wrinkled one lying still on the covers, the golden light surrounded me like a blanket. And I knew... the sun, at least, would be back tomorrow.

2 missives:

Anonymous said...

Not mooney, just pensive. Thoughts of my father currently in the hospital (although very ill, hopefully not on his deathbed) made this story hit a bit close to home today.

I hope that this assignment met with approval from your teacher. For my part, I would say you completed it as requested.

Sparrow said...

Oh, I'm so sorry your father is ill. All my prayers are with him and your family, and I hope that he gets better soon.