It wasn’t the way things were supposed to work out. The promise of having friends and family visit was one of the main selling points in moving into assisted living. The ability to maintain contacts would keep him from going insane.
Now it’s just the staff. The same old staff now wearing masks. What the hell has happened. They say the most terrible legal sentence to impose on someone was solitary confinement.
Far beyond the window, at the edge of some tall willows and behind the gate, he can see his granddaughter. Even from here he can see her crying.
German class started at 8 a.m. I hated it! The old building seemed an appropriate place to learn this old European guttural language. Even the architecture suggested a dark and troubled time.
It took two years of German classes to receive my degree. It was that or take the equivalent number of hours in mathematics. My instructor for the entire two years was Herr Blumenthal. He stood an unimpressive five foot one, always smoked a pipe, and wore had the same tweed jacket for the entire two years.
My days started with the same words “Guten Morgen Herr James!”
The challenge is to write a complete story with a beginning, middle, and end in 100 words or less. My story follows the picture prompt below. Other stories can be read by clicking HERE.
I know my my time is coming to an end. I can hear him shouting in the distance. Once I escaped I kept quiet as I ran through the tall grass enjoying my first taste of freedom. But nightfall is going to be my downfall. I’ve never been outside after the sun has set. I see the headlights of his car closing in on me. I am ready to return. There he is! I know I have caused a great deal of trouble.
He should have thought about that when he took my leash off.
Harry comes in around nine. The regular crowd has been there since eight. Been that way since ’96. Taking his seat at the piano he turns and surveys the crowd. He knows they all have to be back in their coffins by sunrise.
There’s Sara dressed in her finest white gauze and her head topped by a red bandana. Over in the corner is Old John still trying to pick up Sadie. She told him to drop dead ten hears ago. And he did!
The keys on the piano have turned to decayed wood. The sound doesn’t have to carry far.
We walked this beach many times. As little girls we promised to be best friends forever. Then came careers, husbands and children of our own. The walks became less frequent. We compared notes on our life’s progress until the pain from the pancreatic cancer became unbearable. Your daughter’s words still haunt me today. “You better come quick. Mom’s dying.”
On the day Fritz was released from jail for the last time, staff dropped him off at a Metro stop in suburban Chicago. He had forty three dollars in his pocket, money he had earned in prison, and a one day bus pass. He had nowhere to stay.
Convicted on a voluntary charge of manslaughter he had served twenty three years behind bars for killing his own brother in a family dispute over money.
As he looked up on the window at the familiar brownstone building he wondered. They say a mother’s love is never ending.