Inside the Light

Nora decomposes quietly in her bed. She’s a bother to no one. She isn’t actually dead. Yet. But after a series of strokes the living have mostly stopped paying her any mind.

She lies trapped in her useless body, inert as a turnip beneath a starchy blanket, the only activity occurring behind her eyes.

Nora misses nothing and everything at once.

She watches the light sliced into slits by the institutional blinds travel across the wall.

When it’s barely past the window ledge someone will come in with a tube of liquid food and plug it to her belly. She misses the taste of food. Even her mother’s burned bacon or liver and onions would be a welcome change from the flavor of old pennies and stale breath.

A slice of light touching the faded floral print in the ornate plastic frame means two of the ever-changing cast of CNAs will enter the scene to rotate her in an attempt to limit the bloom of bedsores bedecking her backside. They handle her like a cut of cheap beef and titter over her withered ass as though Nora no longer comprehends human communication. But she does.

When the fading light reaches her inert hands it’s time for the library lady to arrive. She brings with her a lurid novel and an earnest voice and transports Nora to a different place and time. Her favorites are the speculative fiction stories. Anything can happen and beings with all manner of bodies live full lives.

As the day’s rays fade, corporeal sustenance is once again plugged in and dripped, enough to get her to morning.

The building settles, hallways become quiet, and Nora thinks about the library lady and today’s story. A sleeping princess wakened by a tender kiss, lifted to her feet and waltzed around, dizzy with joy, filled with life.

Tears leak from Nora’s eyes. She closes them and shuts out the world.

******

They lay together, his hand resting on her chest. He rumbles something sweet into her ear and she turns to him. The leaves filter late day sun, dappling all round with mystery and magic.

“Nora,” he whispers, his breath tickling her neck.

How she’d missed this. How she’d missed him. How long had it been since they’d been together? Too long to calculate and she didn’t care to spend this time focused on figuring such mundane sums. 

He is here now. That’s all that matters.

He stands and lifts her, his hands on hers, strong and insistent yet gentle. There are no worries while she is in his arms and she willingly dances with him to languorous rhythm not so much heard as felt. The blanket, picnic and space they had occupied recedes. Soon they are in a field and dusk drops. Fireflies light between the flowers. There are flowers everywhere and the smell is intoxicating. Petals brush her skin and she continues to dance throughout the night, confident with the arms of her love.

*****

Hands leave Nora's discarded shell. Signals are silenced and cables are wound and tucked into machines now pushed to corners. Blankets are left jumbled, some trailing to the cold floor.

Morning light touches the window ledge.