It started simply enough. A kick on the soccer field, a brush of the cheek – with a fist I mean. A glance – of deep venom. And then the knuckles were flying, and the blood was flowing, rivers over shirts. And the crying stopped. As their mother lay still, her tears drying-from a heart attack.
They rushed, never rushed again ever since – to see her off – to see her better and well..but..she passed, a vegetable. Lying there in her room, that was not her room, garbed in hospital blue, sound asleep inside herself, she seemed at peace except for her breathing, and the slight shudder of her chest.
They watched through the night. By the morning,…she was no longer there.
Like all friendships, and loves and trust, and hope. She was gone.