“I saw it,” he said, before dying again. “The light, that is.”
Hospital machinery pinged; an entirely inhospitable sound. “The light?” I queried. “At the end of the tunnel?”
He shook his head, upsetting multitudes of wires and tubes falling across his face. I stroked back these plastic strands; aching echoes of stroking back unruly long hair, long departed.
“There’s no end to this tunnel. Just darkness either direction.” Equipment clicked, chimed, chirruped in ripening urgency. “No, I saw the lights we each carry for each other.”
Nurses materialised in functional frantic futility.
“Sorry. You’ll have to carry them both now.”
100 words (Actually I’ve made a few edits to this, I might be one or two words over… oh well).
Another 100 word tale for the Friday Fictioneers – thanks to Rochelle for the ongoing challenge (and administration), and thanks to Stephen Baum for the photo this week. For new visitors, the aim of Friday Fictioneers is to tell a short, but complete, story. As such, I hope this has a beginning and a middle. I’m pretty confident it has an end.
I have been reading some poetry recently, and admittedly struggling with it (Wilfred Owen). Apparently nothing makes you feel fundamentally stupid like reading something and not understanding a word of it. Struggles aside, I have used a few tiny poetry techniques here; tried incorporating some minor repeated words (hospital/inhospitable, long hair/long departed), playing with alliteration (clicked/chimed/chirruped, functional/frantic/futility).
So let me know what you think – does it make sense? Does it generate any sense of emotion? Can you visualise the scene?
Does it work?
I strongly recommend checking out the other stories – always some diamonds here.
Finally a quick apology – time has been a little limited of late, so I haven’t been as responsive to comments or as progressive in reading other people’s stories as I normally try to be. I’ll endeavour to do better this week.