By Christopher Ray
“You can see the trees,” I say. “You can see the wind.”
He sits up. “Yes,” he agrees. But his eyes are dull. “Him over there,” he nods, “he never moves.”
In a flurry of rings on rail, the green curtains envelop us.
“Excuse me,” says the nurse.
He’s startled. “Am I alright?”
His bewilderment sucks pity from me like a silent sob.
I peek out.
A gurney.
A bag.
Some minutes pass till the curtains swish back. The bed is made.
“Look at that,” he says. “He’s gone home. Will I be going home soon?”
I sigh. “I expect so.”
Beautiful imagery…nice pathos.