A Lily Most Pure by Writingfundimension Flash Fiction Writing Contest contest entry |
"How's our girl doing tonight?"
"Be back soon. Love you, honey." I whispered in Vannie's ear. Her cheek was cool beneath my lips. The elevator doors opened and I stepped inside. Diane was right. The comfort of my own bed and time away from the hospital was what I needed. A hot shower released all my knots. Putting water on the stove to boil for tea reminded me to get the thermos out of my duffel bag. Reaching inside, I found a folded page of watercolor paper. Vannie loved drawing and painting. Before we discovered the malignant brain tumors, she'd dreamt of attending the Sorbonne, in Paris. Her picture, a Cape-Cod-style cottage surrounded by a white picket fence and painted in soft hues of blue and violet, seemed real enough to step into. I clutched it to my heart, closed my eyes; and prayed to Jesus for strength and release of my fear.
Something tickled my nose and I opened my eyes to find I was in a meadow lying on warm, soft earth. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the sun was directly overhead in a clear blue sky. Vannie sat on the ground next to me. Her hair was long and lustrous - like it had been before the cancer treatments.
The sound of her goofy, explosive laugh was more precious than a thousand angel's trumpets. .
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