I had written this flash fiction piece a while back, and put it away, it is too short to do much with, but it’s a poignant story, and when I came across it this afternoon I decided to share it here. Enjoy. Let me know what you think.
Aunt Emma was watering the garden in the rain when I got home. I got out of the car and went to her, my shoes soaking in the mud and water as fast as I stepped into it. Her face was turned down like a wilted flower, but when I lifted her chin, I could feel the slickness of her drool on it.
“Oh,” was all I could say. “Oh, my dear.”
She looked at me with vacant eyes, and we stood there in the wetness, her gone, and my mind flying back over the years to my childhood and the warmth of the sunshine, of her smile as we picked flowers together.
“How did we get here?”
She didn’t answer, but tremulously, she lifted a hand to touch my cheek. I bent my head into her touch, feeling that she was cold.
Still no reply, but when I crooked my arm, she slid her little hand into my elbow, and we walked together toward the house. The hose laid forlornly on the muddy ground behind us, as we walked slowly, the core warmth seeping out of me. When we reached the door, I knew that she would never be able to be alone again. From my caretaker, to my care. And I knew my care would be as helpful to her as watering the garden in the rain.