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Leaving a Room

I took two breaths and was out the door. I left it open. The church bell was caving in like wind blown down through a chasm, leaves sweeping across the floor while the flag hangs, lifeless.
I've heard the same four sentence story now more times than I can count. What the nurse said, what he said. There's no telling really. I'm dead these last four years and she has been too. There's nothing changing. There's nothing going on.
The only difference is that she always did the talking. I just listened and waited for the end. What difference do the words make anyway? They just float off like smoke when it's all said and done.
The bubbling noise though, the gurgling, that said something louder. Those two pieces in my ears, that round circle on her chest. It must be cold, she wants it off, wants the people to stop listening for a change.
She'd rather the warm embrace of a darkness, the eerie silence of a bell...


error404 said…
Thanks for the link back. I like the writing in here, very raw, very real sounding.
cbeck said…
Your welcome. I'd say the same about your own work. I've been a long time fan.
Connie said…
This is dark, poetic, inscrutable. Good writing. I feel like I'm coming into the middle of a mystery, which I am, in a way. Yet there is something familiar about the experience you immortalize here. Keep safe in this dark space.

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