Post by angelnic on Jan 17, 2007 7:48:10 GMT -5
Waking up, I smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifting up from the kitchen below. I know my wife is awake as the bed is naked without her in it, plus that coffee smell gives it away. I struggle to pull myself out of fogginess and stumble into the shower. Blasting myself for about 30 seconds with ice cold water to wake up normally does the trick but this morning I can’t bear to shock my system. I stand in the lukewarm water letting it trickle over my tanned skin until I hear the woman I love shout up the stairs that if I want some breakfast I’d better hurry.
I’m dried and dressed within minutes and heading down the stairs, jacket in one hand, briefcase in the other. I have time to maybe grab some toast and give my darling a kiss before I head off for work.
Leaving the house I realize that I didn’t tell her how much I love her. I try to make an effort to tell my wife how much she means to me every day before I leave, but this morning I think I was still half asleep. Oh well never mind, I’ll tell her when I call her at lunch time. Better yet I’ll make time in my busy day to take her to lunch.
The train station isn’t a far walk from where we live and it makes more sense to me to take the train to work rather than use the car and then have to worry about parking and all that inner city traffic.
Boarding the train, which this morning isn’t that busy, I take a seat across from a petite blonde. She looks up from reading her Harlequin Ladies Only novel (I’m thinking that she’s single…or possibly in a relationship that’s lacking romance). I smile and she blushes and I watch her eyes dart to the wedding band that shines proudly on my left hand. I start to read the newspaper I picked up at the station and pay no more attention to the woman facing me.
We head into the darkness that is the London Underground, but I’m engrossed in an article on the front page of The Times. I don’t notice as we arrive and leave stations. I have to get off the train at Victoria and there’s still a way to go yet.
Suddenly I hear a loud bang and feel the carriage lurch to one side. Having no seatbelts, passengers are thrown around freely. I hit my head against something hard and am surrounded by an ever growing darkness. The last thing I see is the wide open, vacant eyes of that pretty blonde.
Lights are flickering on and off. People are shouting, crying for help. Something is burning. I wonder will I ever get out of here. Will I ever look into the beautiful blue eyes of my darling wife again? I slip in and out of consciousness.
I don’t recall the moment when I felt my soul slip from my body, I only know that I remember inwardly crying for the loss of my life, the loss that my wife would feel knowing that I wouldn’t be coming home that night, nor any other night. As my soul drifts away, I feel myself looking down upon my empty shell, thinking that I really should have gone back that morning and told my wife how very much she meant to me and how I would love her always. I mourn for the loss of any future we would have had together.
Until this moment I’d never thought about heaven or hell or any afterlife my soul would have. I feel as though I have unfinished business and that I should hang around and make sure that my family is ok, but then again what can I do from here. Can they really feel my presence? I doubt it. But something urges me to stick around for a little while longer.
It’s strange, this feeling of limbo. Not knowing where I’m heading or where I’ve been. Suddenly I’m at my wife’s side, but she can’t see me, I only hope that she can feel me loving her forever. I watch her through a hazy cloud as she goes about her day, not knowing what has happened to me. I watch her attend her doctor’s appointment only to find out that she’s carrying the baby I’m never going to be able to be the father of. The baby I’m never going to see grow. I’m filled with an unmentionable sadness at the thought that she will be alone raising our child. I only hope that there will be another person who can love her as much as I do right now.
She’s at home now, watching the horrific news headlines on TV. I know what’s going through her mind. I feel it. I see her cradle her stomach and our child and hear the telephone ring. At the same time the front doorbell is pressed. I see her quandary as she picks up the call and walks towards the door with the cordless handset. Of course I know who is at the door…it’s the Met.
Two police officers stand at my front door with the news that I am dead. The news that my wife is a widow and that I won’t be coming home again. They inform her that she is needed down at the coroners office to identify the body and my wife slumps to the floor, telephone still in hand. I see one of the young guys make a lunge at her to save her from falling to the floor. I will him to catch her. Knowing that she has such a precious cargo, I don’t want her to lose anything more.
News of my death travels fast. Apparently there was a bomb on the train. It was part of a terrorist attack on the nation’s capital. I am not the only fatality, I only hope that the other families who have lost someone, have a good support system like my wife does.
My funeral is a grand affair. Everyone who attends is someone I loved in my own little way. My wife looks so lost in a sea of friendly, but grieving faces. I ache to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. At the cemetery, my wife breaks down upon my fathers’ shoulder. I hear him assure her that everything will be ok as my mother wraps her arms around my whole world.
I see a glow ahead of me and wonder if everyone else can see it too? I find my soul slowly gravitating towards this hazy light. It’s so beautiful. So warm and calming. I look down at my wife and hope she feels the love I’m sending her and our unborn child.
As I reach this glowing, warming brightness, I feel at home.
I feel that I have arrived.
I am finally at peace.
© 2005 Nicola Raymer. All rights reserved. Inner Peace is the sole property of Nicola Raymer.
I’m dried and dressed within minutes and heading down the stairs, jacket in one hand, briefcase in the other. I have time to maybe grab some toast and give my darling a kiss before I head off for work.
Leaving the house I realize that I didn’t tell her how much I love her. I try to make an effort to tell my wife how much she means to me every day before I leave, but this morning I think I was still half asleep. Oh well never mind, I’ll tell her when I call her at lunch time. Better yet I’ll make time in my busy day to take her to lunch.
The train station isn’t a far walk from where we live and it makes more sense to me to take the train to work rather than use the car and then have to worry about parking and all that inner city traffic.
Boarding the train, which this morning isn’t that busy, I take a seat across from a petite blonde. She looks up from reading her Harlequin Ladies Only novel (I’m thinking that she’s single…or possibly in a relationship that’s lacking romance). I smile and she blushes and I watch her eyes dart to the wedding band that shines proudly on my left hand. I start to read the newspaper I picked up at the station and pay no more attention to the woman facing me.
We head into the darkness that is the London Underground, but I’m engrossed in an article on the front page of The Times. I don’t notice as we arrive and leave stations. I have to get off the train at Victoria and there’s still a way to go yet.
Suddenly I hear a loud bang and feel the carriage lurch to one side. Having no seatbelts, passengers are thrown around freely. I hit my head against something hard and am surrounded by an ever growing darkness. The last thing I see is the wide open, vacant eyes of that pretty blonde.
Lights are flickering on and off. People are shouting, crying for help. Something is burning. I wonder will I ever get out of here. Will I ever look into the beautiful blue eyes of my darling wife again? I slip in and out of consciousness.
I don’t recall the moment when I felt my soul slip from my body, I only know that I remember inwardly crying for the loss of my life, the loss that my wife would feel knowing that I wouldn’t be coming home that night, nor any other night. As my soul drifts away, I feel myself looking down upon my empty shell, thinking that I really should have gone back that morning and told my wife how very much she meant to me and how I would love her always. I mourn for the loss of any future we would have had together.
Until this moment I’d never thought about heaven or hell or any afterlife my soul would have. I feel as though I have unfinished business and that I should hang around and make sure that my family is ok, but then again what can I do from here. Can they really feel my presence? I doubt it. But something urges me to stick around for a little while longer.
It’s strange, this feeling of limbo. Not knowing where I’m heading or where I’ve been. Suddenly I’m at my wife’s side, but she can’t see me, I only hope that she can feel me loving her forever. I watch her through a hazy cloud as she goes about her day, not knowing what has happened to me. I watch her attend her doctor’s appointment only to find out that she’s carrying the baby I’m never going to be able to be the father of. The baby I’m never going to see grow. I’m filled with an unmentionable sadness at the thought that she will be alone raising our child. I only hope that there will be another person who can love her as much as I do right now.
She’s at home now, watching the horrific news headlines on TV. I know what’s going through her mind. I feel it. I see her cradle her stomach and our child and hear the telephone ring. At the same time the front doorbell is pressed. I see her quandary as she picks up the call and walks towards the door with the cordless handset. Of course I know who is at the door…it’s the Met.
Two police officers stand at my front door with the news that I am dead. The news that my wife is a widow and that I won’t be coming home again. They inform her that she is needed down at the coroners office to identify the body and my wife slumps to the floor, telephone still in hand. I see one of the young guys make a lunge at her to save her from falling to the floor. I will him to catch her. Knowing that she has such a precious cargo, I don’t want her to lose anything more.
News of my death travels fast. Apparently there was a bomb on the train. It was part of a terrorist attack on the nation’s capital. I am not the only fatality, I only hope that the other families who have lost someone, have a good support system like my wife does.
My funeral is a grand affair. Everyone who attends is someone I loved in my own little way. My wife looks so lost in a sea of friendly, but grieving faces. I ache to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. At the cemetery, my wife breaks down upon my fathers’ shoulder. I hear him assure her that everything will be ok as my mother wraps her arms around my whole world.
I see a glow ahead of me and wonder if everyone else can see it too? I find my soul slowly gravitating towards this hazy light. It’s so beautiful. So warm and calming. I look down at my wife and hope she feels the love I’m sending her and our unborn child.
As I reach this glowing, warming brightness, I feel at home.
I feel that I have arrived.
I am finally at peace.
© 2005 Nicola Raymer. All rights reserved. Inner Peace is the sole property of Nicola Raymer.