Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta elderly. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta elderly. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, 27 de marzo de 2017

Bleeding

   Bleeding, he ran towards the forest, hoping that his attackers wouldn’t follow him there. He didn’t stop moving his legs until he found a place between trees that were too close, a place where he could hide. He sat there and waited. Sure enough, they came rather fast. He even tried not to breathe while they were close. They checked their surroundings but not with enough care. Eventually they stopped looking around and returned to the place they had come from, in town.

 He could breathe again but not the most comfortable way. His clothes were drenched in blood and, when he tried to begin walking again, he almost fell on his face. His legs were not responding properly and his head was spinning, hurting a lot. He tried to gather himself and at least make a plan of what to do next, because he couldn’t stay there in the woods. He came to the conclusion that those people didn’t know much about him and that his home was probably the best hiding place.

 That posed two problems: the first was that his home was in a city two hours away. The other problem was that his attackers had vandalized his car and now he didn’t have anything, including his wallet and house keys. The latter wasn’t an issue as he always left a spare in the pot next to his apartment door but he did need money to get to the city or at least to convince someone of taking him there. Besides, he was bleeding and he didn’t know how bad his injuries actually were.

 He decided to fin the closest road and just risk it. Hopefully someone would take him somewhere, no matter if it were the hospital or his home. The sun was rising far and he soon had enough light on the road to know where he was walking. Finally, he made it to a road and was lucky enough to be picked up by a lovely elderly couple. The good thing was that they were travelling very early to his hometown. The not so good thing was that they didn’t realize that he was injured.

 The wounded man tried to act as if nothing was happening. Maybe it was for the best if they didn’t notice his blood all over his shirt. He just kept talking about all the good things to visit in his town. That, at least, made the journey home less painful in every way possible. When he finally got home, he was about to faint but the voice of the old lady woke him up in the right moment. They left him in front of his building. He thanked them once and twice and then the car left and he walked into his building, took the elevator and went straight home.

 He plunged his hand into the big pot by his door and, in seconds, he found the keys he was looking for. He tried to leave everything as it was, in order for people not to know those keys were there, but his hand was trembling too much, as well as his legs. He opened the door as fast as he could. The first thing he did inside his house was looking for the phone and dialing a number he had recorded a long time ago but had never dialed because the need for that person had never arisen.

 About thirty minutes later, the man arrived. He was called Fred and didn’t look to be very bright in particular. The man had met him once, a long time ago in a job he had to do in a very bad neighborhood. Fred was an unfortunate kid back then, who had been able to educate himself but had never had the fortune to actually go to college and achieve his dream of being a doctor. Instead, he worked as a veterinarian assistant, in the same bad neighborhood they had first met about two years ago,

 Nevertheless, he came running and didn’t ask any questions. After all, they had discussed it a bit back then and he still remembered how any types of questions were not rally welcomed by someone like that man. Young Fred brought something like a purse, filled with many things a veterinarian and a doctor would both use. The man didn’t ask if he was needed at work. Silence was their common language. Fred cleaned the wounds, close what had to be closed and gave the man a paper with things he had to buy to stand the pain.

 When he was about to leave, the man spoke. He said “Fred”. The young man turned around, to see the man pointing at the kitchen counter. There were some bills there, which Fred took before heading to the door and leaving. The truth was that the man would have wanted the young man to stay because he didn’t only feel pain but he also started to feel lonely. After all, there was no one in his life to take care of him or at least to visit him in this, his hour of need. He was alone.

 The man decided to take himself to bed. He walked to the bedroom slowly, trying not to mess up the work Fred had done. In his room, he took off all of his clothes and then entered his bed, covering himself with the various layers of fabric. He felt really cold and his limbs were trembling even more. Through the closed curtain he could see the sun that day was bright and beautiful but he didn’t really care about it. He only cared about resting and just closing his eyes and go somewhere else, somewhere where he could get a life for himself that he liked.


He fell asleep fast and he dreamt for various hours.

martes, 17 de noviembre de 2015

A character

   She sat down on the edge of the bed, naked, and just stayed there for several minutes. She then glances at the man that was sleeping in the bed and she realized she found him repulsive. There was no real reason but she felt very uncomfortable around him and decided to dress up and leave. The woman picked up her things from the floor and put them on fast and in silence. Anyway, she could have been loud and the man wouldn’t have woken up. He was snoring and drooled, making her think what was she thinking. Once the woman had everything, she grabbed her purse, which she had left on a chair, and walked out the room. She didn’t really take a look at the guy’s apartment, she knew it would be filthy and tasteless, a mirror of his own personality.

 Once she arrived on the street, she felt more free. Her name was Marina, or at least that was the name she used to sign her paintings. She was a proper artist, painting and sculpting professionally for some years now and been very recognized by it. The man she had just been with probably had no idea what the artistic world was like or how famous she was to other people. But he hadn’t been with him to be recognized, so she couldn’t really blame him for that. She had found him in a bar and had decided she needed to have sex and just went for it with him. He seemed like the kind of guy that would pick up any girl after been offered a drink, so it wasn’t difficult to convince him. She was now regretting her choice as the guy lived very far and now she had to take a bus home. Calling someone to pick her up wasn’t really an option.


domingo, 12 de octubre de 2014

Beneath The Habit

Sister Gwendoline loved desserts. From her first years on this world, she had adored anything sweet that you could share with friends and family. Her favorites were éclairs, any kind, as her grandmother always made them when she visited.

Many years had passed and, instead of baking, she would spend her days in the convent, taking care of the elderly nuns and helping with a day care center the church had established in town, to help single mothers with their children.

Let's not misunderstand the situation: Sister Gwendoline loved to help and it was this calling that made her take the habit when she was eighteen. Her mother encouraged her to do i and her father would have preferred to see her become a great cook. But when her grandmother died, she new she wanted the world to be a better place and becoming a nun was her choice to do so.

She had asked Sister Eloise to talk to the Mother Superior, in order for her to have duties in the kitchen but she wouldn't listen or care. She thought Sister Gwendoline was suited for her current duties and sending her to the kitchen would not be in the best interest of the congregation.

But, as they say, God works in mysterious ways. Mother Superior had been called to a reunion in Italy and decided to leave Sister Mary in charge. Sister Mary was just past seventy years old. She was a bit deaf and forgetful. But dedicated 100% to our Lord. She was always first in mass and last to leave.

Sister Gwendoline had also noticed Sister Mary was also first in the dining hall and last to leave, after repeating dessert, something only the most elderly members of the convent could do. So the younger woman took advantage of the situation and directly asked Sister Mary to have duties in the kitchen.

But Sister Mary knew about Gwendoline's requests and said no, like Mother Superior. But knowing about her predilection for sweets, Sister Gwendoline asked for a trial period or a test to be in the kitchen. She said she would bake éclairs for every single nun in the convent as a proof she was suited for the duties she was looking for.

And Mary, number one fan of pastries, accepted. Sister Gwendoline was thrilled and immediately when to the kitchen and asked for a time in which she could do her creation: only after dinner, said Sister Ruby. She was a big, older woman, happy in her duties as a chef and taking care of everyone's health. To her, she was even more important than a doctor as she relieved not only the body but also the soul of her patients.

Sister Gwendoline cooked the pastries the same night she asked Sister Ruby and took special attention to detail. Everything was there, in that big and old kitchen that had seen so many groups of religious women come and go.

She did one for every single sister, using three different types of filling (pistachio, rum and vanilla) and decorating with edible pearls, nuts, fruit and chocolates. When they were done, they looked as if one had entered a french shop. They look perfect, maybe too perfect to even eat.

On breakfast, the morning after, she stood besides Sister Ruby as she served oatmeal and gave aways juices and fruit. She put an éclair on every tray and she told every nun to eat it last, so everyone could taste it at the same time. It wasn't very common to have dessert this early but no one said a word.

They ate the oatmeal plates faster than usual, even the elderly nuns. Sister Clara, who was over ninety years old, kept watching her éclair with the same eyes a mother sees a baby. She thought it was adorable and that she should thank Mother Superior for this delicacy.

Then the moment came and everyone ate in silence. Sisters Ruby, Gwendoline, Clara, Eloise, Mary and everyone else enjoyed it in silence, as if this was another one of the masses. When they finished, they cleared the tables and went on to their duties, without any word been spoken.

Sister Gwendoline was summoned to Sister Mary's office two hours later. She was nervous but overall happy. She had done what she liked best and that was a great accomplishment.
In the office, Sister Ruby sat in front on a large desk, on the other side Sister Mary smiling. They had agreed that Gwendoline should spend two hours each day in the kitchen, getting familiar with every single aspect of cooking. She would keep her duties with the children and the elderly until they had seen she could handle kitchen work.

All the rest of that day, of the week actually, Sister Gwendoline walked on air. She was thrilled to serve her congregation with her real talents. She was on the kitchen on time everyday and, although tired at night, she would fulfill her other duties as she had always done.

Then, Mother Superior came back. Sister Mary told Gwendoline she would speak about their arrangement with her but apparently that wasn't necessary.
Unknown to anyone, Sister Clara had taken Sister Romilda's éclair, as she had an upset stomach. Instead of eating it, the elderly nun had kept it in a cloth napkin for the last few days in order to give it to Mother Superior, as a thank you, thinking she had been the one to authorize dessert on breakfast.

Gwendoline thought she would be summoned to Mother Superior's quarters but that didn't happen. Instead, she summoned all nuns to the chapel and there she talked about what the congregation had gathered to talk about in Italy: tolerance and understanding.

She said these teaching didn't only apply to their relationship with people outside the convent but also inside, and that an example of this not being handled correctly was her denial to let Sister Gwendoline cook, as it was her desire.
Mother Superior said understanding was basic in their way of life and that they should respect each other's tastes and preferences, as the Lord intended them to be individual beautiful creatures.

So from that day on, Gwendoline moved full time to the kitchen and the sisters enjoyed her creations for many years, as she had always wanted to do.