Yesterday, she thought she heard his voice.
Quiet but rough,
The way it sounds when someone shouts for help from rooms away.
She shuffled quickly enough
To find him
Thinking maybe she had made a mistake,
Maybe he was here,
And she had just dreamed him away
A nightmare that seemed real enough
For her to question everything.
But today, she would turn a corner,
And he’d be there,
Asking for a kiss from her,
Before he left for the day.
Or maybe he had forgotten where he put his keys again
Maybe it wasn’t all a dream,
And he was sick in bed,
And was calling to her because he needed an extra pillow for his head,
Or needed a drink of water
For chapped lips.
He was so weak,
He couldn’t do more than take a few sips.
Maybe he had fallen,
She hoped he had fallen,
She prayed that he had fallen,
And just hurt himself,
Even if it was bad,
It was something she could help.
She could lift him back to the bed.
She could call for a doctor,
Get a ride to the hospital from a friend.
She breathed in deep,
Breathes of desperate hope,
Against all odds.
She reached the door
That she remembered being shut,
For days, or maybe weeks,
And turned the ****.
The air was still,
Undisturbed by even sound,
He wasn’t there,
Lost,
And unfound
The silence of an untouched bed
Was inescapably loud.
She closed the door,
And wandered away,
Though she did not remember,
For the third time today.