Nearing The End

Scene 1.

The signs had been there for days. Steve, always a stickler for rules, had studied the conflicting government guidance and erred on the side of safety. Standing before the blinking red light, he was unrecognisable in a white Hazmat suit, respirator face-mask and blue protective gloves. Not that there was anyone else present to recognise him.

“Only one flash per second. Dear old boy, not much life left. ” He breathed out long and slow, turned away and brushing a hand to cheek, made for the door. Note to self… alcohol gel  NOW and don’t touch your face! 

Following the science of the most cautious of experts, – complete disrobing, bagging up the PPE  for secure disposal, throwing contaminated clothes in for a 90 degree wash, swabbing down all surfaces, having a hot shower and full change of clothes, followed by a UV dose of garden sun  – all this was now such a familiar  routine. 

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Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

A small group gathered by the gate shaking their heads in subdued silence. Each wore dull colours and sensible shoes. Some clutched bunches of drooping spring flowers which mimicked their own demeanour. Occasionally little bursts of conversation gurgled to the surface. It wasn’t a day for the customary jovial exchanges.

It took me completely by surprise. If I’d known, I could have taken better care. Could have covered things up a bit.

I know. There was no real warning was there? Now I’ve lost everything. I’ll just have to start all over again. It’s just so sad and upsetting.

Well, we’ve all suffered the loss in different ways. For me, it was my special Marguerite.

There were early attempts to pick up the pieces and put forward a more positive view of events. After all, not everything was completely lost and there was time for most to begin again.

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Cheating Death

Oswald, aged 120, a spry wrinkled gentleman with flowing grey locks and all his own teeth, sat in his armchair.  His chair was strategically placed as near as possible to the reception desk next to the Nursing Home door, he was waiting for his next victim.

Most of the residents had warned their relatives about him, nearly always too late of course, as Ossie was always in his prime position keeping his ears alert for the ring of the doorbell, and keeping a vigilant watch through the bay window for any approaching prey.

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DEATH…

Death was being promoted. She had been second in command for eons and now it was her turn. She didn’t know how it happened, in that line of work who knew how anything happened. Anyway, she was going to give it her best shot, after all, she knew the ropes.

What nobody ever knew was that she still had a tiny spark of humanity left which she had hidden well for all of these centuries.

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Passover

Laying in my hospital bed surrounded by machines beeping and whirling. Family sitting anxiously nearby. Doctors and nurses silently hovering. I can’t believe the doctors are telling my family that now it’s in God’s hands; they can do no more. How silly is that?

I can hear everything, just can’t open my eyes. They are just too heavy. Going to be fine, just need to rest a little while longer.

Death does not frighten me, I just don’t feel it’s my time. This condition I have is no fun to live with. There have been many scares over the years but I have always pulled through. How can I leave my children and grandchildren? They need me.

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TREVOR

Trevor could always trump what you were saying.

            ‘Serious accident on the Mumbles Road,’ a fellow said. ‘They sent an ambulance.’

            ‘Two,’ said Trevor. ‘The second came straight after. Multiple injuries, see.’

            ‘There was a police car there as well,’ the fellow said.

            ‘And a helicopter,’ Trevor added. ‘Carnage, deaths, blood.’

            Another time a woman said she’d seen a naval boat in the bay. The Royal Navy in Swansea Bay? What were they doing: shopping at Sainsburys in the Marina? Then Trevor announced:

            ‘Escorted by a submarine. Top secret, apparently. Came to the surface for a moment. Spotted it at once, I did.’

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Nina’s Gift

“You okay?” Nathaniel asked. His father looked up from his hunched posture.

“I was just thinking about her,” he said. “Bubbe Nina was a forceful woman.”

“Stronger than most,” Nathaniel agreed. “Didn’t she walk from France to Spain?”

“Yes, in nineteen forty-one, just after the Rafle du Vel’ d’Hiv’,” Lionel said. “She feared it would spread to the south.”

A loud rap came from the front door and they jumped to their feet. Lionel waved his hand at Nathaniel, indicating he should sit again. The senior family member always greeted doctors. It was a measure of their importance. 

Doctor Llewelyn was a jolly man, dressed in an old coat and carrying a battered medical bag. He beamed at Nathaniel as he entered and held out his hand.

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The Shipping Forecast and Other Prognoses

Jim tuned the radio to the shipping forecast, taking him back to his navy days. Back when a soothing voice could help navigate stormy seas. No such guidance now. No telling whether Sue’s cancer was progressing at a rate of forty-five knots or greater. But it was comforting to know that Biscay was south-west six to gale eight as he made her tea.

He poured the water into the teapot. Their best china, because what had been the point of saving it? What occasion were they ever waiting for? He remembered buying this set on their honeymoon at the flea market in Paris. Sue’s eyes had lit up at the sight of the gold-rimmed birds perched among vibrant blossoms. He’d have paid any price for it, to make her happy. Still, it had pleased him to strike a bargain and demonstrate his bartering skills, not to mention his French. She’d stood on her tiptoes and kissed him full on the lips in front of everyone in the market, and he’d felt his cheeks flush with pride. He was the luckiest man alive.

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