She knew her mother was lingering. She knew her mother was lingering for her. She also knew that she was sitting beside her mother’s bed, suitcase packed, with him waiting outside for her. She would be gone, leaving her mother all alone. She had come here every day for the past three years, watching her loving mother, willing her well, taking care of her just as if her mother were awake.
“I am going to leave now. They will take care of you. Please don’t be angry with me.” She paused. “I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I need you to know that. I need you to know that I’m not leaving because of that. I would stay a thousand years if it meant you would wake up. But while you’re asleep, there’s a dream that I want to finish. It’s something you would have wanted. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back, okay? You’ll like it. I promise.”
She took a deep breath and heaved herself up. She lifted her suitcase, a hint of white lace poking out. She looked down at her mother, and stroked her face, maneuvering her ring around the wires and probes that now seemed to be just another part of her, an extra limb. With a small smile she turned around, leaving her mother with only the company of beeping monitors. The Sarah the Nurse strutted in, a clipboard upright in her mocha hands, her rotund figure sliding through the doorway just before she left.
Sarah the Nurse looked out the window and watched her lug the suitcase to the sidewalk. He was waiting there for her. She walked past him as the bus arrived, then climbed aboard, his knife to her back.
This is a piece of flash ficion (short story under 300 words. This particular one is exactly 297 words. Ha! I win!). It's from the prompt "Intersection of ... Obligation and Passion" that I got from dear SleepyQuill's site. It sounded like fun, so I tried it.
There's a lot of allusion in here, try to figure it out. And who can tell me which is the passion, and which is the obligation. Let's see if you get this right.
