The Girl (3)

The girl sits very still in the corner and wraps her coat around her knees. The way she tucks her ankles up against her bottom. The way her fingers flutter through the space around her. Each thing he hopes never to forget.

There is a great chasm of silence between them; neither has spoken for over three hours hours. Neither feels the need for verbal communication. After all these years they can communicate in the silence of thought.

The door opens quietly and a face appears, a pair of eyes sweep the room, then the head withdraws and the door shuts softly. Neither of them moves. Time passes so slowly.

Then time seems to stand still. The pain he has endured for so long is suddenly gone. He is granted a final look at his daughter as he floats up towards that bright light above his head. Warned by the crackle in his throat as his lungs deflate she jumps to her feet, hands fluttering, towards the call bell. She crosses to the bed, kisses him on the forehead and closes his eyes.

He is gone now to be with Mum. Now she is on her own. Now, duty done, she is free. A young girl no longer, but still young enough to enjoy life, she could make the most of her inheritance. For a little longer she must maintain the sorrowing daughter even though she felt like singing and dancing. The would be time for that later.

Author: Greg

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