That all my worldly possessions fit into the trunk of a car should mean something. But it doesn’t.

Not much means anything any more.

The tears of the sky fall upon my wind-shield and the wipers brush them away with nonchalance, a nonchalance that has now settled deep within my mind.

For forty years I worked as an accountant, bent over a desk in a 4 by 4 cubicle, returning to a house ransacked by two hyper active kids, who I love most dearly. What got me through was the mantra – ‘when they are off to college, I’ll be off to live my life.

The elder one graduated last year, the younger one graduates next year.

So here I am. I’ve settled my affairs, cashed in my chips, and am off to live my life, or at least what is left of it. With stage three carcinoma, the doctors really couldn’t say.


In response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers challenge of 23rd June prompted by a photo by Ted Strutz

Advertisements

20 thoughts on “Life and Living

  1. Oh, what a cruel fate. To work so hard only to have the life-carpet yanked out from under you. Been thinking a lot about that myself lately as Hubby’s seizures are less and less controllable.

    Like

      1. I just needed to hear that exact thing right this minute. I just came from having my car towed home for yet another repair… starter this time. Add that to the radiator, serpentine, wheel bearings, ball joints all replaced since April and on a budget that didn’t cover even one of those repairs. siiiiggghhh.

        Like

      2. It is. God will provide. I have that faith. And, he has. the car will be fixed in the morning. And my landlord will let me be two days late on rent without evicting. But, there will be a late fee.

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s