We will meet again - Алекс Бранд

can gently press here, at the head. A small smooth ledge, she found it herself a few days ago. A small click — and the wall smoothly went down, gliding silently in the slots. Now, she must lower her legs, find the floor with them … How dizzy, the thin ringing growing in the ears, has darkened in her eyes. Or not… May be the evening shade just gathering in the corners of the room… A mattress slightly bent under her palms. She shuddered feeling the soft roundness of air chambers under a thin sheet. Her hands jerked away and got on the knees themselves. She gritted her teeth in an effort to keep straight, not to stagger, not to fall. She does not want to touch this. Air mattress against bedsores, another manifestation of filial care, the latest model. Against the bedsores … She must get up. A gust of cool wind from an open window touched her face, she inhaled it with a full chest, as was it once… Many, many years ago, when she first crossed the threshold of this ancient house. Dry, cracked lips smiled, she remembered her childhood delight on that first day. She like a girl ran around all the rooms, opening the doors one by one, filling everything with a cheerful laugh. The husband followed her without saying anything and there was happiness on his face.

In the silence of the room, in the silence of the hushed house a small greenish night light came on, illuminating her with a dim light, sitting on the edge of the bed. Having lit up the face still keeping traces of that beauty, which delighted everyone. Only traces … Thin parchment skin, red streaks on cheekbones and cheeks, lips lost their cheerful brightness and freshness … How they are dry, she ran her tongue again, gathered strength … For a moment her eyes covered behind pale wrinkly eyelids, she sighed softly. Eyelids rose and from under them flashed the blue flame. She will rise! She will do what she decided. Fingers clenched into fists.

When she straightened stepping bare feet on the cool parquet floor, she was pretty rocked. And she did not dare to bend down to look for slippers. Barefoot? Let be! How nice to feel the homey touch of an old polished wood … And so that no one is near. Neither the nanny, nor the nurse, nor … She shook her head, chasing away unsolicited thoughts. Let her finally be left alone, she does not want to call anyone, does not want to see anyone. The hand rested on the table, she made a first timid step. Just don't fall like that time. The thigh reminded of itself again, responding with a sharp pain in the bruised place. The son was afraid of a fracture, but she refused to go to the hospital for an x-ray — why? What then, even if a fracture? Nothing. So she said, looking him straight in the eyes — uttered by syllables, as in childhood, teaches him to speak. Teaches to understand what was said. He opened his mouth, intending to insist and … He said nothing, turning his eyes away. She felt remorse, because he wanted to do better … She softened her tone, put a narrow palm on his hand, stroked it. It's really not nesessary, sonny. This will not change anything and only the noise will rise, it will be unpleasant for me. And this is not a fracture, well, and it does not really hurt. As proof, she lifted her leg and bent her knee, trying with all her might to smile and not wrinkle. Only the corners of her lips were trembled … The son preferred not to notice.

Five steps. Nightstand, table, wall — milestones on the way to the goal, to the huge window. She leaned on a wide window-sill and carefully looked out — it was empty in the garden, no one would notice. She slowly opened the shutters to the end, giving way to the sounds and smells, colors and paints of the evening sunset. Today it is great. She always loved this room and the space outside the window. The endless hilly fields stretching to the horizon. The house calmed down, her children were laid and sleeping peacefully in their beds. The husband would be back soon. And she sits, climbing with her feet on the window sill, and dreams, thinks. Sometimes she singing softly. Singing… Her lips parted, there was a whisper that suddenly broke off. She leaned back, pressed her hand to her mouth trying to silence coughing. No need to be heard now. Breathing is too fast, she tried to calm him down with half-forgotten exercises before going on stage. It took several painful minutes before the attack subsided. She tried again, stubbornly tried. No, the air does not obey, the lips are trembling, the parched throat cannot cope. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and understanding has come — she is just afraid. After all, everything is simple — she need to drink a glass of water, to soften burning thirst, and then … Then she finally will can. That's the point… But after the first glass will be the next ones, she will not stop anymore. For why? What will it give? Nothing. She slowly whispered this word speaking to herself. Frowning, she turned to the bedside table, a wrinkle cut through her forehead. She decided and will do as decided. A soft sound of flowing water be heard, and a minute later when she turned back to the window, to the fiery red-silver sunset glowing outside …

I'll be loving you always

With a love that's true always

When the things you've planned

Need a helping hand

I will understand always …

A quiet tune, she was transferred again to that church, to that sad story, where the only time … The only time she tried