Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by ME and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are:

1.bowed  2.snoring  3.barefoot  4.tears  5.memory  6. swamped

and/or:

1.taped  2.cream  3.moonlit  4.beach  5.soft  6.salty

Here is my story:

She sat on the edge of her bed, slightly bowed, hair hanging long and wavy, wishing she felt sleepy. She had finished her book and would have to wait until tomorrow for another one. They always send us to bed too early, she thought. They had schedules to keep and some were already snoring in the tv room anyway. 

There was music playing softly nearby, a radio at the nurses station and she wondered how it was possible to be this old while inside she still danced and danced whenever she heard music. Her bed was lower than the others, her daughter had demanded it be so. “If mum can get her feet on the floor then she can get into and out of bed by herself, her independence should be kept as long as possible.”

She glanced at the bedside table where her new teeth smiled at her from inside the water glass where they lived each night. She smiled back at them, thinking they looked happy, the wide smile of pink plastic gums with white plastic teeth, though it wasn’t plastic they were made from. Some fancy modern technique had produced them.

Her thoughts turned to this week’s outing; to her joy, the sign up sheet had read “Elliott’s Beach” and she quickly added her name to the list, desperate for one more walk along the water’s edge, barefoot of course, so the rippling wavelets could tickle her toes. She would wear her steel blue dress, the thin fabric would be cool and breezy against her skin. It was too loose now, but that was okay, everything was too loose now, muscles and skin hanging where once they had been plump and firm.

She didn’t mind the wrinkles, feeling privileged to have lived this long when so many hadn’t. A memory came, she and her sisters splashing about and trying to stay upright as each successive wave swamped them again and again. They had laughed until tears fell, salty tears to land in the salty sea. Then, suddenly ravenous, racing across the sand to the rickety table where Mum and Dad had set out paper wrapped parcels of fish and chips, seagulls circling overhead, hoping for a stray chip.

The memory faded away. Her birthday was coming soon, there would be cake and balloons in the dining room, she had requested just one candle, saying to Nurse Sharon that blowing out ninety of them might be too much effort. Her family would come, there were so many of them now, it was getting hard to keep track without looking at the list taped to her mirror. 

Even the great grandchildren now had babies of their own. They would bring gifts of chocolates to be shared later as they all watched TV, soft centered fillings of strawberry cream, peppermint, and orange cream, maybe even a few Turkish delight. The soft ones were best now, they could melt in the mouths without any need for chewing.

Random thoughts of birthdays past flitted in and out as she began to yawn. Sleepy at last she drew her feet up into the sheets and pulled the covers up as she lay against the pillow. Nurse Evelyn poked her head around the door jamb, “ready for lights out?” She flipped the switch, bringing soft darkness to the now moonlit room. “I will take the little redheads for one last beach trip before I give them to Helen,” she thought as she fell asleep.