Member-only story
The Koi Pond
[Capsule: Freewriting]
There is a certain melancholy that overtakes you when the years slip by faster than koi fish in a pond. You cannot grasp the moments as easily; your hands move through water, and there is only so much you can do as the memories rush past your fingertips, away from solid existence.
My wife stares into the garden, but I know she is not viewing it as she once did. There is a glaze-like quality to her eyes, the aftermath of sickness, the progression of a life unraveling. The teacup I set before her cools, unnoticed, and the steam dissipates, another faint existence.
I watch her for what feels like hours, because time shifts differently when you are older. The promise of a moment is not surefire. The only vow you make that keeps is the one with Death; you will be assured that he will not forget the bargain forged upon every birth.
My wife is slipping out of my grasp, just like the elusive koi fish. The only thing I recognize from her is the way she folds her hands in her lap. Even though she still has her raven hair, there are streaks of gray that have invaded ever since her diagnosis last fall.
Some days she looks at me like she doesn’t even know me.
Drabble Me This is a publication inspired by my Dynamic Drabbles series from 2023. I have a lot of writing I…
