Cozy gathering
before storming out, swearing
ain’t this the season
Alisa was the cleverest in the family, and the brightest in class. If anyone could uphold his name, her father claimed, it’d be her. Of his four children, only she possessed the craftiness to carry on his legacy.
Mr. Farber had been a criminal lawyer for fifteen years. From political goons to local thugs, he’d bail anyone out as long as cheques cleared. He cared for process times, and never for process rights.
Growing up listening to arguments disproving facts, Alisa, too, followed suit. As her career spiked she became more like her father, lacking nothing but a moral compass.
Caressing the wrinkled patina of her skin, I realised how fleeting life had become. The woman who once loved, nurtured, and nursed me even, was now ridden to the linen that made up the hospital bed.
She grinned to assure me everything would be well. Despite knowing nothing would ever be well again, I obliged with a silent smile. It was my burden to bear — to watch the light in her eyes snuff out in one painless moment. It was mine duty to stand by her side in sickness and in health, for I’d vowed seven years ago: “I do”.