FICTION. Drabble for Prompt: "Its on"
He is not moving.
For a moment, I wonder. I hear the blowing of his CPAP. He must be sleeping deeply, that’s all.
Silently, I slip out of our bed and exit the room. He needs his rest.
He still isn’t moving. I hear the CPAP blowing but, instinctively, I still check. It is plugged in, it’s on.
It’s been so long. Finally, I touch his face.
Cold, stiff.
Oh my God! I shake his shoulders, pound his arm. How can this be? Surely … my head to his chest.
The CPAP blows on, still blowing on.
For a moment, I wonder. I hear the blowing of his CPAP. He must be sleeping deeply, that’s all.
Silently, I slip out of our bed and exit the room. He needs his rest.
He still isn’t moving. I hear the CPAP blowing but, instinctively, I still check. It is plugged in, it’s on.
It’s been so long. Finally, I touch his face.
Cold, stiff.
Oh my God! I shake his shoulders, pound his arm. How can this be? Surely … my head to his chest.
The CPAP blows on, still blowing on.