If I was able to take this same tree, trim it as I’d like, and take the sun with it, it would be the most perfect, beautiful Christmas tree ever!
Your final three words for this week are:
fairy, dim, wait.
The fairy flies with tinted wings,
from her fairy lungs she sings
a song of happiness and delight
a song to carry her through the night.
But when the light is far too dim
She flies along beside of him
to help him see his way on through
She didn’t know what else to do.
She waits until he sees her smile
It could have been at least a mile.
He listens gently to her song
Happy that she came along.
Eden saw doubt in their trembling smiles, they never expected her to recover.
But as she regained consciousness, visions of the accident started coming back in small snippits. Was she driving the car? She can’t remember. Where was she going?
Everyone, including the doctor and the charge nurse, stood above her, staring down at her as though she had died. No one seemed particularly happy that she was alive, let alone awake. Perhaps they knew she would survive. But those smiles, half smiles really, sent a chill down her spine. She began realizing they were waiting for her to respond before celebrating the fact that she was even alive.
Her eyes became heavier and she was unable to find the energy to keep them open. As soon as Eden closed her eyes, they began to speak in hushed tones. In her head she wondered, “Was that the doctor’s voice saying I could still be in a coma? Was I in a coma?” This was so confusing and no matter how hard she tried she could not will her eyes to open or her mouth to form words to speak.
As I sit here, listening to the quiet, white noise of the air purifier and the louder, snuffled noise of the dog snoring, I think about the time of day and the darkness outside. It is a nasty, rainy day here in New England. I suppose I should be happy it is rain and not snow. I am not sure why, but it seems that most people don’t want snow to come.