The Other Sister, Part 14
Title: Break Down
Rated: T
Edith/Various
(300) word ficlet , part 14 in the Other Sister series
Edith pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator. The trip home was taking much too long.
Her breaths were coming out in short, shallow gasps. She leaned her head as far out the window of the motorcar as possible, letting the breeze cool her clammy skin. Even this dull odour of oil, petrol and exhaust fumes was preferable to the stench of antiseptic and urine, she decided.
“Mary? Tom?”
“It’s Strallan. Cancer.”
“Cancer?”
“He’s just taken a turn for the worse. Clarkson has been out there daily for the past week.”
She felt bile rise to her throat.
She sharply turned the steering wheel and slammed her foot down on the brake, parking haphazardly on the side of the road. She needed more air.
She struggled with the automobile’s door handle, eventually escaping its confines to stumble across the road, where she promptly emptied the contents of her stomach into a ditch.
Finally she straightened, only to realise she was too light-headed to even think of driving again just yet, despite her eagerness to return home.
Ducking under a fence running parallel to the road, she took a few awkward steps into a field before her legs collapsed beneath her.
She fumbled to retrieve a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at her mouth, nose and eyes. Adults shouldn’t indulge in such self-pity.
“How long have you two known about his illness?”
“A few months, but--”
“Why do you think I spend time with Michael, Mary? Tom? Because he’s the only person I know who doesn’t treat me like a child.”
“Please rain,” she whispered up at the dark clouds forming above her.
“I knew you’d come.”
“You knew more than I, then.”
“I’ve missed you. It’s been so long. So many years.”
“Yes.”
“I hoped you’d come... Maude...”
Rated: T
Edith/Various
(300) word ficlet , part 14 in the Other Sister series
Edith pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator. The trip home was taking much too long.
Her breaths were coming out in short, shallow gasps. She leaned her head as far out the window of the motorcar as possible, letting the breeze cool her clammy skin. Even this dull odour of oil, petrol and exhaust fumes was preferable to the stench of antiseptic and urine, she decided.
“Mary? Tom?”
“It’s Strallan. Cancer.”
“Cancer?”
“He’s just taken a turn for the worse. Clarkson has been out there daily for the past week.”
She felt bile rise to her throat.
She sharply turned the steering wheel and slammed her foot down on the brake, parking haphazardly on the side of the road. She needed more air.
She struggled with the automobile’s door handle, eventually escaping its confines to stumble across the road, where she promptly emptied the contents of her stomach into a ditch.
Finally she straightened, only to realise she was too light-headed to even think of driving again just yet, despite her eagerness to return home.
Ducking under a fence running parallel to the road, she took a few awkward steps into a field before her legs collapsed beneath her.
She fumbled to retrieve a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at her mouth, nose and eyes. Adults shouldn’t indulge in such self-pity.
“How long have you two known about his illness?”
“A few months, but--”
“Why do you think I spend time with Michael, Mary? Tom? Because he’s the only person I know who doesn’t treat me like a child.”
“Please rain,” she whispered up at the dark clouds forming above her.
“I knew you’d come.”
“You knew more than I, then.”
“I’ve missed you. It’s been so long. So many years.”
“Yes.”
“I hoped you’d come... Maude...”