Monday Morning Munchies #4
Staying the course of yesterday's Valentine's celebrations, a short blurb about true emotions is in order. Compose an emotionally charged paragraph. It can be about romantic love, friendship, hardship...you make the call. (I've posted mine under comments.) ";-)
The moment surfed over him, taking his breath away. It swelled up inside like a bubble of chewing gum ready to burst. His hands were shaking, unsteady. His heartbeat soared with jubilation at the expected touch. He'd thought stealing away to the beach with Nina, when they were in high school had been exciting. And then even more so when he'd asked her to marry him three years ago. But this was different. The tip of his finger felt the instinctive tug, as his eyes glazed over; he couldn't see anymore. It didn't matter, though. The graze of skin was innocent, beautiful, and sent directly from Heaven. No one would miss that. No one in the room did, as they watched Jack accept the first touch of his newborn son. His young wife had thought she loved this wild, blond-headed grease monkey for all he was worth. She'd been wrong. At the crook of his lip and the coo of their newborn child, Jack winked at her, and Nina fell in love with him all over again.
ReplyDeleteWell, what can I say? A paragraph turned into a page!
ReplyDeleteAngelique could do nothing but stare at her son. He laid in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, his breathing leisurely and his head bare. She sat beside him in the brown chair she had slept in and curled into a hundred times before. It brought tears to her eyes as she realized that this was all his life ever was. This hospital bed and this pale, depressing room was his home. For fourteen years he had known little else. He had been through years and years of chemotherapy, years and years of pain and heartbreak. Angie knew she had failed him, failed to provide him with a life worth living. Failed to offer him everything he deserved and more. She cupped her face in her hands and wept as silently as she could manage. Her short blonde hair that hadn’t been washed for days fell round her face and entangled in her fingers. Her stomach began to hurt due to her intense convulsions.
“Mom?”
Angie looked up to her awakened son. She immediately wiped away her tears and pushed back her curls.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were up.”
Damian nodded ever so gently.
“Can I get you anything?” Angie asked as she stood from her chair and wrapped her sweater closer to her.
“No mom.”
“Alrighty.” Angie leaned back into her chair and looked at her son again. His body seemed so sad, pale and fragile. As though if you simply touched him he could shatter into a thousand pieces. Yet as she looked deeper into his insipid brown eyes she saw happiness. Somewhere in his fading spirit there’s a pocket of joy and pleasure.
“Mom.” Damian murmured in his awkward boyish and masculine voice. Angie adored his voice.
“Yeah.”
“I think I’m done.”
Angie’s body went cold at his words. She had feared this day since they first discovered her son had cancer. Her heart pounded and her hands began to tremble yet the rest of her was frozen in place. Tears developed in her eyes again as she swallowed hard.
“You sure?”
Damian nodded again. “I’m done mom. I’m ready.”
Angie felt as though a knife had jabbed into her heart. Everything hurt, everything was cold. She kneeled beside her son’s bed; tears cascaded down her face uncontrollably. She stroked her son’s cold cheek and squeezed his hands. Childbirth had not hurt nearly as bad.
Damian motioned to her and the weeping mother responded quickly. She climbed onto the mattress and wrapped her arms around her son, savoring the little warmth between them. Every fear she had avoided and shunned came showering down on her in a single moment. She wanted nothing more than to keep her son where he was. Safe, in her arms.
Somewhere within that painful night, without her permission, her son’s soul left his body.