Ficlets

Christmas Dinner

At 10:25 she rummaged through the plastic Glad containers. The number of casseroles friends had brought over was ungodly.

The house was so quiet. Too quiet. The countless cups of cheap hospital coffee were not settling well with her system. It felt strange to finally be home.

The hours had dragged. Doctors in and out. CAT scans and EKGs. Neurosurgeons and cardiologists. 2nd opinions and conflicting information. It made her head spin.

The beeper on the microwave told her whatever cheese and beef dish on her plate was done. It was going to be a lonely night. The silenced darkness was almost worse than sitting in the room for so many hours watching him hooked up to all those tubes. That constant beeping of his heart monitor.

She shouldn’t have left. What was she doing at home? But Aunt Terry said she’d call if anything changed. Besides, it wasn’t like there was going to be any news on Christmas Eve. They’d be lucky if the surgery would even happen before the new year.

She fell asleep before her first bite.

View this story's 3 comments.