(draft - in process - comments/input welcomed)
What
Might Have Been
by
Kenny A. Chaffin
All Rights
Reserved © 2017 Kenny A. Chaffin
The visitors appear in the corner of
his room at 5 P.M. every day along with his dinner. He watches skeptically, listening
to them, arching his eyebrows at their claims, sneering regularly at the
offered gifts but at times nodding, consenting, accepting. The visitors are at least caring, concerned.
Not like those who at times take their place. The loud, pushy ones trying to
force their so-called gifts on him. Gifts he doesn’t want, need or care for.
The loud pushy ones bring bile to his throat, knots to his stomach. His smile
returns when the loud ones depart and his visitors return. He dabs the corner
of his mouth with a paper towel and remembers. Remembers the waves of Calvary
washing upon the shores of his youth. Remembers drinking those waters, the gifts
they offered yet none fulfilled. He becomes still, sits, thinks. The
oatmeal-raisin were always his favorites.
Revised 6/15/2023
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