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May 2018

                                                               ­                                         "Terry!
                                                                    ­                      Are you alright?
                                                        ­                      Did the truck hit you?"

"Yeah, m'fine.
Just... fell.
Got knocked on the head.
I'll be okay."

                                                         ­                                "You're bleeding.
                                                       ­                                       Here, sit still."

"Aaron.
Do you hear it?"

                                                           ­                                     "Hear what?"

"The music..."

                                                      ­                       "Hold it together, Terry.
                                                          ­          An ambulance is on its way."

"Aaron..."

                                              ­                                                   "Yes, Terry?"

"Would you sing for me?"

                                                           ­                                                        "...
                                                                ­          You know I can't do that."

"Why ever not?
You used to...
all the time..."

                                                       ­                                      "Stay with me!
                                                             ­                           Don't fall asleep!"

"Was it the death?
In the forest?

Dear Uncle Jim, this garden ground
That now you smoke your pipe around
Has seen immortal actions done
And valiant battles lost and won.


Is that how it goes?"

                                                         ­             "It's a nursery rhyme, Terry.
                                                          ­                 I'm sure you got it right."

"What's it called?
I can't remember the rest."

                                                         ­                 "Historical Associations
                                                   ­                                                   I believe."

"Sing it for me?
I don't know the rest."

                                                         ­                                             "Oh, well,
                                                           ­                                            let's see...

                                                         ...and valiant battles lost and won.

                                                           Here we had best on tip-toe tread,
                                                                ­While I for safety march ahead,
                                                            For this is that enchanted ground
                                                   Where all who loiter slumber sound...


                                                      ­                                                       Sorry.
                                                          ­                                     I can't finish."

"Yeah, I get it.
Thanks, Aaron."

                                                        ­                                                         "..."

"You have a nice voice."

                                                        ­                     "The ambulance is here.
                                                          I­'ll come meet you in the hospital."

"...
okay."

h.f.m.
Historical Associations is by Robert Louis Stevenson
Hannah Marr
Written by
Hannah Marr  19/F/Canada
(19/F/Canada)   
131
   Hannah Marr
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