Page 45 - The Houseguest

of the house. Suddenly feeling lightheaded and nauseous, I rushed to the guest bathroom, grabbing dusty furniture on my way to steady the spinning room. There, I began to vomit violently and repeatedly. I knew it was a concussion as I glanced at the green bile defacing the “artisan created” sink Karina had carefully selected for this bathroom. Her tastes were exquisite and yet unpretentious, just like her.
Sinking down onto the floor, holding my head in my hands, tears fell that soon evolved into uncontrollable weeping. When and how would I finally escape this hell? The night passed and the sun’s rays peered through our bathroom ceiling skylight. Trying to stand, I was quickly reminded of my condition. I was a mess, able to draw strength only by focusing on the mission I’d come here to complete, to scatter the remainder of my loves’ physical existence into the outgoing waves and watch them be carried gently out to where they loved to be...the endless sea.
Unable to muster a proper farewell in my current state, I decided to stay a few days, clean up and bid a respectable goodbye worthy of the lives they’d lived. I hadn’t eaten and of course there would be no canned goods in the pantry. Karina had always insisted we eat nothing but organic, fresh vegetables and fruit. In the city, she had even begun a neighborhood rooftop garden, though the other participants’ interest faded quickly when they learned the time and work that needed to be invested into cultivating the plot. Regardless, she proudly shared the fruits of her labor with them. Before I could drink the water, it had to run for about ten minutes because what came out first was brown from the sediment.
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life