This is a multiple word prompt story inspired by the following prompts:
‘What a contrast today is to yesterday’, thought Sam.
Yesterday, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and all was right with the world.
They’d made plans to redecorate the bathroom. They’d even gone to the Hardware store to choose the paint. It all seems rather flat now.
Sam wandered from room to room without really seeing anything, without any real purpose. Opening the door, walking in, closing the door, then repeating the process, just for something to do rather than think.
She felt like she had to atone somehow. She knew it wasn’t her fault, but she still felt the burden of guilt.
It was such a petty argument, over paintbrushes or something stupid like that.
Then he’d clutched at his heart, his hand spasmed and she realised he was having another heart attack. The doctors had said that once you have one, you’re more likely to have another and he had to be careful.
She’d phoned the ambulance and she waited. Belated has to be one of the most hateful words there is. Too Late. She remembered too late that he shouldn’t be overexcited, why did she have to argue?
Too late, the ambulance arrived. She knew it was all over.
She was wandering up and down the stairs when the telephone started ringing.
She ran down those stairs almost defying the laws of physics.
Picking up the receiver she spoke “Hello, Hello? Yes, this is Mrs Richards. Doctor Griffiths?”
The calm deep tones of Doctor Griffiths could be heard on the other end of the line.
“Yes, Mrs Richards, It was touch and go for a while, but we have been able to resuscitate your husband. We had to put a stent into his main artery, but he has come through OK. Get a good nights sleep and come and visit him in the morning.”
“Yes, Doctor, Thank you.” As soon as she put the phone down she burst into tears.
The next morning she walked into the hospital room and saw him sitting in bed with lots of tubes and wires sticking out of him. He looked dreadful, but he was alive. He even gave her a little smile.
She ran to him and buried her face in his chest and cried while he gently brushed her hair with his hands. She felt stupid, he was the one who had just narrowly survived a heart attack, but he was comforting her.
She heard his voice, it was quieter and softer than usual.
“Love, I’m going to be OK in a day or two. Don’t worry. There is one thing though dear.”
“Yes, darling, what is it?” She answered.
“I think we’d better get someone in to do the bathroom.”
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 02/October/2018