Sunday, 30 July 2017

Falling Off

That night in Christine’s guest room it took me ages to fall asleep—only Daisy’s canine snores assured me that I was safe.  When I did finally drift off, I found myself in the meadow I could never paint.  Sitting in the grass, leaning back on my hands, I felt the warm sun on my face.  The dragon, however, was nowhere to be seen.  

Awake again in the morning, I felt bereft.  Even my dragon had left me.

At breakfast Christine set a small padded envelope on the table.  “I don’t know if now is the best time,” she told me, “but I promised Rick I would give you this.” 

I recoiled.

“No problem," she said, withdrawing the envelope.  "I’ll just hold on to it until you’re ready.”

Silence descended between us.  And then I asked, “How was he?”

“Quiet.  Unhappy.”

“How often did you see him?”

“Just a couple of times.  Daisy stayed with him while I was with you at the hospital.  He didn’t leave until he knew I could take care of her.”

I almost smiled, thinking about how much Daisy would have liked that.  But then the almost-smile faded from my face.  At least Daisy had been able to say goodbye.

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