May didn’t augur well for him. While he was sure that his family was careful, he knew that the precautions followed by those who came home had gone wayward off late. Within days, the covid fatalities rose and as he lay in bed, his thoughts were interrupted as an auger was used to put his wife’s frame on the wall. He laid a lei on her grave next morning wondering how the pandemic had broken their union.
Tag: Death Page 1 of 5
If winter is death, surely, red-slashed autumn is the wound that brought it. It had been a strange year with the magnitude of issues. But he pursued whatever he could as vigorously as ever to add memories to his vault. He did rest and work and was now ready for the melt and freeze of winter.
Linking to Ragtag Daily Prompt: Strange, Fandango One Word Challenge: Magnitude, Your Word Daily Prompt: Vigorous, First Line Friday, Saturday Mix, Sammi’s Weekend Prompt #180, Stream of Consciousness Saturday
Another life, another situation where the genotype influences the phenotype,
Where physical characteristics are more important than anything else,
Another death, another situation where all we are left with after a person’s loss is gripe,
Where we never cared for their well-being when they were alive and are left with nothing but their smells
“Is this the end of the world as we know it?”
“Why do you say so?”
“Look at the way the pandemic is raging. There are thousands dying everyday as the health facilities have been overwhelmed.”
“While I can understand where you are coming from, I am sure humanity will rise again as it always has from different tragedies across the centuries. We humans are a resolute lot. We don’t accept defeat easily.”
“I am not conceding defeat. But I just feel that this pandemic is like karma for all our actions especially the years of torture our planet has borne due to our actions ranging from deforestation to pollution of all kinds. Following years of adverse weather events, this pandemic seems like the precursor to the future.
It’s like a red moon has been riding on the humps of the low river hills.”
“a red moon rides on the humps of the low river hills” is from Carl Sandberg’s Jazz Fantasia
Linking to dVerse Prosery Monday
He shriveled at the thought of hearing her voice in his head. After her death, life had acquired a new meaning for him. In order to get rid of all the noxious thoughts, he decided to walk across the country in her memory to raise funds for the underprivileged wearing the shirt she gifted him.
It had been months since he had visited his family. The world got locked down as things got worse. Hundreds were dying and thousands were losing their jobs each day. Months later when some of the travel restrictions were lifted and he could take off for his hometown, he finally started to feel ‘normal’ again.
Linking to Ragtag Daily Prompt: Normal
“It’s such a pleasure living in a house where everyone takes care of the plants as if their life depends on it. Though we are nothing more than a showpiece sitting in this bowl, we are given water and nutrients on a daily basis.”
“I completely agree. This is surely so much better than where I lived previously. My caretaker rarely watered me so much so that I had lost all my energy and was quite literally on the verge of death.”
The two leaves were lost in thoughts of their own as the time for some food was nigh.
A wax museum in the sleepy town of Troddle had risen to prominence courtesy George, one of it’s residents. His museum had figures of famous people from around the town and the cities nearby.
His work was so good that almost all the wax figures actually seemed like real people.
But no one ever knew the secret of his work until the death of his fiancee opened a can of worms.
The police who were already on the search for a number of abductions found that George killed people for money and then turned their dead bodies into wax figures.
The room had been locked for years. Rachel had heard stories about her aunt’s ghost lurking behind those doors. This aunt had failed in love and out of despair, she committed suicide.
Rachel didn’t believe all this until one evening when she heard footsteps from the room. They got louder and louder and finally someone began banging the door from inside amidst cries for help. Even before she could react, the door was thrown open.
Almost immediately, Rachel got up sweating profusely. It was 3am and she looked out only to see the room locked as before. Was she dreaming?
For those who know me, they will surely know how much I love tales of endurance, human spirit and the will to survive in the toughest of conditions. And that is why I have been a big fan of movies like Everest, Gravity, 127 hours and books like Miracle in the Andes to name a few.
I recently watched a documentary called Touching the Void which is the story of Joe Simpson and Simon Yates who scaled the Siula Grande in the Andes in 1985. While they scaled the 6,300m peak in about 3 days, the journey back was almost nearly fatal. As soon as the decent began, Joe broke his leg and Simon had to make sure that both he and his friend came down together since they had tied the rope to each other when they had started and one’s death meant almost a fatal plunge for the other.