The Storm Without
“I stuck my head out the front door to see if I was mistaken, but no, there was no hint of rain in the air. All was quiet. All was still. At least, outside. I was being eaten up inside about my reaction to the death of my mother. I wanted to feel more, but I couldn't help but see her death as a blessing. The way she had been living was no life at all.
I made coffee, replaced the crispness of the morning air with the harsher tang of Nescafe instant. I toyed with the idea of breakfast, some eg...gs maybe. Toast perhaps. The stookie on my arm would make anything more complicated a trial. In the end I decided that my stomach wasn't up to it and stayed with the coffee. Ben was anxious to get out, to stretch his old legs and relieve his no-doubt aching bladder. I ruffled his ears in consolation for a moment but then the whimpering started.
'Okay, boy … you win.' My coat still carried a hint of the heady antiseptic smell it had picked up in the hospital the day before.MoreLess
I made coffee, replaced the crispness of the morning air with the harsher tang of Nescafe instant. I toyed with the idea of breakfast, some eg...gs maybe. Toast perhaps. The stookie on my arm would make anything more complicated a trial. In the end I decided that my stomach wasn't up to it and stayed with the coffee. Ben was anxious to get out, to stretch his old legs and relieve his no-doubt aching bladder. I ruffled his ears in consolation for a moment but then the whimpering started.
'Okay, boy … you win.' My coat still carried a hint of the heady antiseptic smell it had picked up in the hospital the day before.MoreLess
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