Friday, April 6, 2012

F is for From a Trance


She sat staring vacantly into space.  Time had no relevance, no substance.  It came and went unnoticed by her till finally the cold crept into her bones and she could ignore it no longer.  Slowly, stiffly, she tried to stand and found that her muscles screamed in protest.  With a sigh, she hobbled forward until she came to the washroom.  Entering slowly, she looked at the mirror wondering who that ancient woman was that stared at her from its depths.  Grabbing the soap, turning it over in her right hand as if it was an unidentifiable object, she turned the hot tap on with her left hand and stood there, just stood there waiting.  As the water heated up, she shoved the bar of soap into the running water and as the soap became wet the scent of lemons and lavender enveloped her. 

As if from a trance, she suddenly realized that it was time.

3 comments:

  1. Wonderfully written. I could feel my own stiff muscles sympathizing. But of course, now I am curious to learn more.

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  2. An intriguing vignette.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Barb and vicomtesse - I also wondered what it was time for.

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