Karden hated hospitals.
The woman at the front desk refused to tell him where Lydi was. She said that unless he could prove his relation to her, he wasn't getting in. And he couldn't.
So he sat, and he waited.
He waited for an hour.
If he had been paying any attention, he would have noticed that during this hour, he didn't leak a single bit. Not one thought of the accident rammed into his mind. Not one moment of complete emptiness swept through the canyon of his heart. He was thinking of Lydi.
And only Lydi.
So when she came out from one of the wings an hour later, Karden was so tense that he jumped from his seat and shouted her name.
She turned, saw him standing there, and cocked her head. "Karden."
They met each other halfway.
Karden reached out and touched her cheek, then his eyes ran over her body, checking for injuries. "Why are you here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "I'm not."
"Then why are you here?" he repeated, locking onto her dark eyes.
"I . . . I help out. With the cancer patients. Every Saturday morning." She straightened her head and looked at him straight on. Karden felt like she was keeping something out, but he didn't know how to ask what it was. Maybe she would tell him later. "Why are you here?"
"I - I was looking for you. I wanted to talk to you." Karden ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed by the whole scenario.
She took his hand. For a second, Karden was confused. Then he felt the cylindrical object she passed from her fingers to his. "Want to daydream?"
"Please."
Please, Lydi.
Fix me.
Because I'm broken.
YOU ARE READING
cigarette daydreams
Short Story"hey - lydi, got a light?" "literally, metaphorically, or spiritually? because i have none." "that's a bit gloomy, don't you think?" "it's punk rock."
