Steven Hunley
11-13-2013, 04:08 PM
Death in the Afternoon
It was the winter of her life and got dark early. It was already four-thirty and would be dark by five. The ancient lady with deteriorating hips shuffled past Jefferson Elementary, where she matriculated in 1944.
She made the final assent to the top of her stairs and tottered into her lonely apartment. Making a cup of tea, she added the toxic herbs, fed the fuzzy fat cat, left the appropriate note folded like a miniature tent on the kitchen table next to the bowl of apples and oranges. She put on her pink bathrobe and favorite slippers. Then she sat down to make herself comfortable on the chaise lounge facing the west window and put her feet up.
She sighed.
The cushions were as soft as a heavenly cloud. Halfway between the tree line of stately Eucalyptuses the Spanish bell tower glowed like fired clay in the setting sun. Downtown and Point Loma were both incredibly clear. She felt she could see forever. She took a sip, the first and last bitter sip, closed her eyes, and half an hour later…she could.
© 2013Steven Hunley
It was the winter of her life and got dark early. It was already four-thirty and would be dark by five. The ancient lady with deteriorating hips shuffled past Jefferson Elementary, where she matriculated in 1944.
She made the final assent to the top of her stairs and tottered into her lonely apartment. Making a cup of tea, she added the toxic herbs, fed the fuzzy fat cat, left the appropriate note folded like a miniature tent on the kitchen table next to the bowl of apples and oranges. She put on her pink bathrobe and favorite slippers. Then she sat down to make herself comfortable on the chaise lounge facing the west window and put her feet up.
She sighed.
The cushions were as soft as a heavenly cloud. Halfway between the tree line of stately Eucalyptuses the Spanish bell tower glowed like fired clay in the setting sun. Downtown and Point Loma were both incredibly clear. She felt she could see forever. She took a sip, the first and last bitter sip, closed her eyes, and half an hour later…she could.
© 2013Steven Hunley