Silvery-lavender, metal “egg carton” patterned walls and ceilings adorned each and every room, bejeweled with amethysts evenly spaced throughout the palatial house. She walked slowly through the unfurnished rooms towards a muffled sound. A slightly balding man raced past her and disappeared up the stairs carrying a leather-bound book. She made her way up the stairs – all traces of this man, gone.

Entering the ornately furnished room, she stood in the center. In the middle of the gold wood and blue brocade day bed, sat a young couple of about 30. The woman was clearly sick and bald and the man was thin, anxiety permanently etched on his forehead. Both wore what can only be described as hospital shrouds – pale gray in color, almost blending in with the color of her skin.

She was heaving a thick, yellow substance into an old-fashioned basin, soon beginning to gag and cough. He held her emaciated, curled body upright as she choked on her vomit, cold sweat beading her pale forehead, eyes rapidly blinking away exhausted tears.

A routine that was once a battle to be fought was now a plea for respite. He acted automatically. Staring off into that space between, eyes off-focus, he realized that no more aid would come to her or to him. There was only one thing left in his power to do. It would also kill him to do it, but the act would finally end her suffering and slow decay. Eyes wide and brimming over, his hand moved from her clammy forehead to her purple lips, while his other arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. She struggled for what seemed an eternity; he didn’t keep track of the time, but continued to stare out into the space between. Only when all was still, when her thin frame felt heavier in his arms, did his eyes regain focus and his consciousness resurface. Only then did he let out the loud wail.

He did not let go of her body but sat with her for a long moment while relief, disgust, anguish and shock pounded his insides, erasing all traces of warmth and innocence. She was gone, and so was he.

Such it was that their early plans came to deadly fruition – two halves of a whole gone from this world at once, nothing left but the hollow of a man and a mangled corpse of a woman, both of whom had suffered cruelly.

The silence that followed was louder than the moans just moments before. It was a silence that makes one shake his head for something to redirect the lack of sound. She backed out of the room and ran out the door, hoping no one had noticed her presence.

As she ran, the glint of shiny metal caught her eye. The side of the house bore a plaque, which read:

Residence of Mr.
Founder of _____________ _
Father to two children, husband to his second wife, _______
“And so life continues…”

* Based on a dream dreamt two days post surgery. The crazy side effects of general anesthesia!