The Last Dream- 4/9

Richard slept on the way to the hospital.

"Sir, we're here." Said the young man from the front seat.

He blinked and ran his hands through his hair, strands of silver slipped from his fingers. "When did that happen?" He mused.

Looking at the rear view mirror, he realized he knew the kid. "Didn't you date my daughter in high school?"

"No sir, I didn't go to school here."

"That's strange." He looked up and the boy was gone. "Very strange."

Freezing air assaulted his face when he entered the hospital.

"They should turn the air conditioner down." He chuckled jovially to the woman standing next to him at the elevator. She ignored him and watched the illuminated numbers count to the lobby. "How rude." He thought to himself.

On the sixth floor he passed a nurse who looked exactly like his seventh grade math teacher.

"That's not possible, she was ancient even back then." He thought. "Excuse me, is your mother Mrs. Smeriglio?" Richard touched her elbow and his hand drifted right through her.

"This has to be a dream."

He summoned the courage to enter his wife's room and was embraced by the luxurious scent of wisteria. "Smells like our garden in here, Ruthie."

"Doesn't it?" Her voice was a melody.

The grandfather clock from his childhood home stood majestically against the far wall, it's rhythm matched his gradually relaxing heartbeat.

Ruth looked radiant. No longer sullen and grey, her skin glowed. She was no longer skeletal, and her hair had grown back, thick and auburn.

"Ruthie, what is this?" His voice quivered.

"You've joined me. We'll be together forever now, no more pain, no more sickness. I'm so happy."

The instant he took her hands, he knew. "So am I, sweetheart. So am I."

~Word Count 297~