Of Death and White Walls
(inspired[?] by Arnel Salgado; as written in "The Purple Prose of Baguio" by Jessica Zafra 1994: Anvil Publishing, Pasig)
The corpse of a bed-ridden body, latent as the great mountains that surround him, lay beneath the roofs of an aging hospital. You can see Sara sleeping beside the deceased body, her undying love creeping through the skin of Marlon – her cohort in almost all of her dealings in her times of yore.
It was just days ago when the bludgeoning death sent Marlon to a coma. He carried in his stalwart arms a dozen pearly-white roses, which resembles the dilution of cream in your daily caffeine filled cup, when it hit him – a car; red with the blood of the man whose fiancée is destined to suffer gravely in the vehicular misdemeanor that will transpire.
“S-say sh-something m-my d-d-dearest…” these were the words that came out of the now tear filled Sara when the situation that involved the sudden bereavement of her benevolent partner arose in the bliss of her sleep in the nocturnal hours of her bound to be dismal life.
She was awakened, halfway to deep slumber, by the movement caused by the lifting of the now limp body of her sagacious mate. It was over.
Sara’s hands trembled because of the trial that she underwent in the circumstances that she lost a loved one because of an asinine incident, which involved a stranger to her and Marlon – may his soul rest in peace.
Walking aimlessly and meanderingly in the corridors of the hospital that brought her grief and disillusion; perchance, she took the wrong turn for she was en route to the rest room but it was too late she screamed to her death when fate confronted her and took her life away by slipping on the dank hospital floor, her arms and legs up in the air, a blood-curdling shriek enveloped every crevice of the walls of the miserable health institution.
The corpse of a bed-ridden body, latent as the great mountains that surround him, lay beneath the roofs of an aging hospital. You can see Sara sleeping beside the deceased body, her undying love creeping through the skin of Marlon – her cohort in almost all of her dealings in her times of yore.
It was just days ago when the bludgeoning death sent Marlon to a coma. He carried in his stalwart arms a dozen pearly-white roses, which resembles the dilution of cream in your daily caffeine filled cup, when it hit him – a car; red with the blood of the man whose fiancée is destined to suffer gravely in the vehicular misdemeanor that will transpire.
“S-say sh-something m-my d-d-dearest…” these were the words that came out of the now tear filled Sara when the situation that involved the sudden bereavement of her benevolent partner arose in the bliss of her sleep in the nocturnal hours of her bound to be dismal life.
She was awakened, halfway to deep slumber, by the movement caused by the lifting of the now limp body of her sagacious mate. It was over.
Sara’s hands trembled because of the trial that she underwent in the circumstances that she lost a loved one because of an asinine incident, which involved a stranger to her and Marlon – may his soul rest in peace.
Walking aimlessly and meanderingly in the corridors of the hospital that brought her grief and disillusion; perchance, she took the wrong turn for she was en route to the rest room but it was too late she screamed to her death when fate confronted her and took her life away by slipping on the dank hospital floor, her arms and legs up in the air, a blood-curdling shriek enveloped every crevice of the walls of the miserable health institution.
Then it stopped. The walls echoed nothing but the dreary silence and the clamor of death.
posted by Extroverted Introvert at 11:42 AM
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