Odds & Ends: A Book of Poetry and Stories

The Fade

Sunlight filters through half-closed blinds, casting the glow of a rectangular pattern on white walls. A news broadcast buzzes from a television mounted on the wall. Turning my head to my bedside table, I draw a frail arm out from the warmth of my bed blanket. Shaking, it reaches for the television remote resting on top of the box of tissues behind the array of translucent orange medicine bottles. Cold fingers wrap around the smooth plastic remote and bring it close to my face. Among the blur of buttons, I locate the red raised square in the top corner and rub my thumb over it before pressing it. The calm female anchor's fuzzy image and voice shut off, leaving me in silence.

I leave the remote on top of the covers before I unravel myself from the cocoon of the blanket's embrace. The chill of the room peppers goosebumps across my limps as I slowly swing my legs to the bed's edge. Pressing my hands into the plush mattress, I place my two feet on the icy tiled floor after a short grunt.

I leave my cane where it leans against my bed. Instead, I grab the edge of the bedside table, and my fingertips trace its wood as my feet shuffle forward toward the window. When I approach the maroon armchair, my hand for a moment abandons the safety of the table as I clasp onto the arms of the chair before cautiously lowering myself into the seat with a short sigh.

For a moment, I peer out the window, trying to force my eyes to focus on the trees beyond the parking lot, but they only appear to me as a blur of green. On the windowsill rests the flowers brought for me only last Sunday, but now, browned petals lay at the base of the vase as the flowers bend, the blossoms drooping after their lost petals. I reach for my reading glasses resting on top of a book next to the vase. Unfolding them, I rest them on the bridge of my nose and taking the book into my hands, I open it. Drawing the pages close to my face, I immerse my soul into the words, allowing myself to slip from this world.

As its petals fall,
A blossom laments its loss.
All must fade away.