"Rot in Hell, you little bastards," he yelled. But the boys were already gone, running down the street like a couple of jack rabbits, cackling like crows. Damn, he couldn't even bean them with a rock because of the cursed arthritis in his arm. 'I'm in Hell,' Sam thought. 'Glory days my eye, everyone calls them the golden years, what the Hell are they smokin'?' There was no glory in getting old, Sam knew that much. He felt more like a rotting avocado than a respected member of society. Lonely and forgotten, he was constantly being pushed to the back of the shelf, until he got so decomposed that he would be no good to anyone, not even himself.
To add insult to injury, the State had decided that he should carry out the remainder of his decomposing years in this nightmare of a rest home. Sam had a tough time making it on his own after his wife Janice died. He got confused at times and forgot things like paying the bills. The social worker had decided that he was unfit to live on his own. While he was appealing that decision, the bank had taken his home (a farm that he had lived on since he was a child) when he was late with his mortgage payment one time too often. Sam had no family to stay with, so here he was at good old BNH. 'Brentwood Nursing Home, bahhhhhhhhh, the Big Dirt Nap would be a more appropriate name.' Being on top of the ground rather than in it was the only discernible difference that Sam had noticed. 'Well, maybe there was one glaring exception; the real dirt nap would have to be more peaceful.' Thanks to some masochistic SOB of a planning commissioner, the powers that be had seen to it that the lovely BNH (tomb for the undead), stood right next door to the local high school. It was clearly someone's idea of a sick joke, but there you had it.
Now, if God had created a crueler, more hateful creature than a teenage child, Sam didn't know what it was. Every day, like clockwork, the kids came out for their afternoon recess. Young, agile bodies, streaking around the basketball court, without a care in the world. They weren't bothered for a minute by arthritis or fragile bones or even the chill in the air. 'Thinking they're invincible, what did they know?'
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Hardly Heaven - A Different Kind of Dying
Narrativa generaleBaby boomers drove our society, making it what it is today. As this huge segment of our population heads into the final chapter of their lives, what's in store for them? How will our society deal with an unprecedented demand on nursing homes, assist...