
Everything has shrunk. This single window is now my television on the world.
The nurses come and go like birds. I no longer know their names. They click and hum, or maybe that’s the machines. In the heat of the day, one opens the window. As the sun transits into the west, another closes it again.
The moon rises. Lights spark on, sprinkling the bay with glitter. I am quite content to die, but oh I’d like to see one just more sunrise over the docks. There might be a ship bound for distant ports.
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here
Beautifully rendered. The ‘click and hum’, the ‘sprinkled glitter’ of the moonlight. And the ship bound for distant ports most assuredly exists for him. Good one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Sandra
LikeLike
Painfully wistful, Neil, lovely piece.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLike
Yes, there is a kind of urgency in the last line for me; “There might be a ship bound for distant ports.”
He seems ti indicate he has a bit more in hime for adventure, you know one last go.
A sad beginning that, for me, ends with hope and acceptance.
Enjoyed reading.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks so much, James
LikeLiked by 1 person
A clear picture of acceptance alongside his honest hunger for just one more voyage forth.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Jilly. You got it
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hope all is well with you, Neil.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely description of a intensive care bay. I believe that many might live for five hundred years and still have a desire for one more journey.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Michael. Yes there’s always just one more
LikeLiked by 1 person
Its a beautiful vision. Its always hope and our wishes that keep us alive.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
Accepting but not giving in. A poignant piece indeed.
Click to visit Keith’s Ramblings!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Keith
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Neil,
Such a poignant end of life story. With the click and hum you had me in the scene. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so mucj, Rochelle
LikeLike
Lovely, gentle and thought provoking. I loved his calm acceptance and simple hope to see one more sunrise. Fabulous closing line.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so mich, Susan
LikeLike
Excellently told. I appreciate the sweet melancholy of the tone.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Joshua
LikeLiked by 1 person
His experience was palatable. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, James
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’ve written that beautifully, Neil. The use of the word television – “far sight” – is a nice touch. Your narrator longs for one more adventure, but doesn’t know the names of the nurses caring for him. I wonder if that is how it has always been for him; to crave the far horizon and neglect those who love him. Your story hides so much between the lines…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think he probably was always careful to learn and use people’s names in the past. But now it doesn’t seem so important. Thanks so much, Penny
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful. Peaceful, accepting but also hopeful. It sounds like a life lived to its fullest til the very end.
LikeLiked by 1 person
He likes to think so, Thanks so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
A great story well told.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Mike
LikeLike
Neil, this was incredibly poignant and moving reflection of his last hours. Beautifully done.
xx Rowena
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Rowena
LikeLike
Neil, your story is a companion piece to mine. I promise, I wrote and posted before I read 🙂
LikeLike
I’ll nip over and take a look
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fine snippet from the last reel of a film. I like how the ubiquitous hospital television–our window on the world–is replaced by an actual window, with fresh air and glittery light coming through, making his “coming home” a coming home to nature, as well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
He needs Peter Pan to come and whisk him away.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Or perhaps he just needs one last look through the window
LikeLike
Beautifully done. I cannot help but think of my father and wonder if he had the same thoughts as he was making the decision to call it a day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Dale
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful story. Enjoyed reading it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Deborah
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a moving and beautiful story of a man nearing the end of what sounded like a very fulfilling life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLike
I think “a ship bound for distant ports” sums this up so beautifully, achieving two things, the will for some adventure to take him away, and the knowledge that death too would take him bound to a distant port. Either way it’s a release from his current world of constant routine and stasis.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Sascha., I’m glad you saw the two resonances of the ship
LikeLike
Superbly melancholic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLike
There might be a ship bound for distant ports…I don’t know why, but this brought tears to my eyes. You touched the abyss in my heart.
LikeLike
Thank you. And sorry
LikeLiked by 1 person
Don’t be.
LikeLike
Acceptance, but still not ready to give up. The dying wish to go on one final voyage, hunger for adventure. So beautiful!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLiked by 1 person
A beautifully told, poignant story, with acceptance at its heart. The view from his window still has the power to delight him I think.
LikeLike
Thanks so much
LikeLike
Fabulous and sad piece Neil. Great sounds here. There is a melancholy that settles into the piece and the reader. Well done
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Laurie
LikeLike
Beautifully done, hope lingers on till the end.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much
LikeLike
I think it’s everyone’s fear to go out with a whimper rather than a bang. Great read!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Jacob
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was drawn into the scene and felt as if I were standing next to the character, who has gently accepted the rhythm of their final days, narrowing in on the simple yet profound details of life. Even to the end, he wishes for a little bit more. Very nice!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Breanda
LikeLike
At the end of the day , with a little hope, everyone wants to live.
https://ideasolsi65.blogspot.com/2018/09/hostage.html
LikeLiked by 1 person
That can be true
LikeLike
He might be ready to peacefully die, but he hasn’t given up. He’s also ready for just one more adventure on that ship riding the horizon.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Or perhaps he’s just having a dream
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is a beautiful serenity to this piece.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Lisa. That was the feel I was aiming for
LikeLiked by 1 person
This so lovely, full of peace. Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Kelley
LikeLike
A sad story told well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m not sure he’s sad. Thanks, Russell
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think the docks are over the hill and the person longs to look over it one more time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You could be right
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am, the Grand old Duke from my post remembers them well at Flanborough!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this. Some fantastic imagery with the birdlike nurses and the day defined by the opening and closing of the window. I’m a little jealous of your skill if I’m being honest. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
His nostalgic longing for another sunrise touched my heart with melancholy.
I imagine these thoughts must be on the minds of many who are in his position.
Such a beautiful write in just 100 words … a masterpiece.
Isadora 😎
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! Thanks, Isadora
LikeLiked by 1 person
😎
LikeLike
Ah, the sun is setting over the last yardarm! Time for that last barrel of rum.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Or at least the memory of a last tot of rum
LikeLike
The knowledge of his end is scary, as are the faceless nurses…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh we all can be quite certain of our end. The nurses are only that way because they’ve ceased to matter that much to the narrator
LikeLike
I hope your narrator spies a ship for their soul to stow away on. You paint a wonderful image with ‘The nurses come and go like birds;’ all that flitting about and not necessarily taking much notice. This character has a life full of stories to tell I feel.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad you liked that image. I was pleased with it
LikeLiked by 1 person
So poignant. Love the rhythm of this piece, especially here: “In the heat of the day, one opens the window. As the sun transits into the west, another closes it again.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is the rhythm of a life ending
LikeLiked by 2 people
Death doesn’t seem so painful when you are as content as he seems.
This left me with a peaceful feeling.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad you read it that way. That was the emotion I intended
LikeLiked by 2 people
Definitely a sense of moving on not only peacefully, but with a sense of wonder too.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad you saw it that way, Fatima
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sad but beautifully narrated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not necessarily sad. We can all hope for a good death
LikeLike
This is my nightmare – to be tied to the bed helpless at the mercy of others. Yet this brings a sense of peace acceptance and a lessening of fear. Thank you. Btw beautifully penned 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Dahlia
LikeLiked by 1 person