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Weekly Contest #351
My mother is gone. As I sit beside her lifeless, but not-yet cold body on the third floor of St. John’s General in these first few minutes of her death, all I feel is my own life energy. My heart is thumping loudly, pulsing in my neck and throbbing in my head. Perhaps these are the effects of too much caffeine and a sleepless night, but still. My vibrancy overpowers everything in the room. The chair, rolling table, life-monitoring machines are immobile and silent, and my mother’s body now joins them, her liveliness of a few moments before re...
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