Godless

CHAPTER 1

Now, there was an older woman. She had asked to spend her last moments in the arms of her children, but that wasn't all of her request. She had trouble deciding on what she was going to do with them before she died. Because if they didn't do anything, and only held each other, the ending of her life would be bleak. But she waited rather long, and now left with only a few hours of life. And she still hasn't decided on anything yet.

"Will you give me whatever I ask for?"
She spoke slowly.

"If the thing that you ask for is obtainable, we will do our best to give it to you."
The nurse smiled. He was eagerly anticipating the response of the old woman.

"Then, buy me a book…"
She continued after a moment of thought.

"It should be titled…"
Pause.

"How to summon a mythical beast!"
She grinned.

"What? Ok, and which library should I find it at?"
He responded conflicted on whether he should ask more questions or give the dying woman her wish.

"With my decaying brain, do you think I could give an appropriate answer?"
She snickered, finding her comment amusing. Not so much the nurse.

"Well, I have one more question"
The nurse asked, writing something down on his clipboard.

"Go ahead."
She smiled at him.

"Why… Do you want this book?"
He asked her.

"I would read this book to my children when they were young. It was the only book they could fall asleep to. And I want to read it to my children once more before I go."
She spoke even slower this time, and she stumbled on her words.

"I will get you that book then"
He answered her, smiling.

So, the nurse left, when the bus came to their stop. He and his co-worker boarded it and rode the bus to the nearest library. Hemsworth library that is, shrouded by the tall forest trees. And with the day being cloudy also, the sight was to be dreary. Although he knew it would be worth their while, despite the weather. To leave the depressing place. Although it was filled with people with bright eyes, despite the candle inside them diming. Every hour he spent working at that hospice, he could add a dime to his wallet. 2880 minutes of a week, spent on the uncertainty of his patients well-being and stress. He’d pray to have enough coal in the shed to keep them warm because it would be a long walk to the town.

As the bus twisted and turned on the pavement. There was a rattle, maybe a loose screw or maybe a passenger's open purse. Sliding against the bus up and down. That's how the rattle went. Many complained. But the nurse and his co-worker didn’t find it annoying; Moreover, it was comforting. Because when there is nothing to do, you think. And they did not have nice things to think about.

___

There was a silence that had filled the vehicle. As loud as it was he still had room for his thoughts. Each swaying, each bump, each conversation was a disruption. But those didn’t occur often. If you look at the window you’ll see trees and raindrops racing amongst each other. The fog, the houses on the mountain, were looping. Over and over again. So there was room for thinking, since the nurse didn’t like for things to be silent. It was like a void that he needed to fill with rambling and distractions. So he thought of something.

The war, those unforgettable moments that haunt his sleep. His dreams, filled with those men with guns. The sounds, the murky smells. The fires that sprouted about the battlefield had felt to be more warming than the bed sheets he covers himself with now. Why did I go? He asks himself. Then, in his head he saw again a man that turned to him and smiled. “Do you think when we get out here, they’d let me see my mother? You know, before she dies?” The man asks him. The nurse remembers answering. “No”.