March #SOL17 Day 3
Her breathing is labored.
I hear crackling. Fluid on her lungs?
She reaches her hand out to touch mine.
“Are you still there?” she asks.
“Yes,” I whisper. My hand has been on her shoulder for the last 10 minutes. Reassurance is what she needs right now.
Her hand is cold. I know her feet must be cold, too.
I wonder, will she come back from this? She is so weak. What will tomorrow bring? What will next week, next month and next year bring?
It’s getting darker. It’s starting to snow outside. The room is so still. I think her breathing is getting deeper, less shallow. I quietly slip off the bed where I was laying next to her.
Tomorrow is another day.