Next Week

Another raindrop. Plunk. On top of her box.

The angry gray clouds swirl overhead
so low.
They reach down to engulf him.
The breeze off the lake is cold. So cold.
Blink.
He pulls the blanket tighter around Joey and Anne Marie.
He holds them. Brave troopers.
He feels nothing.
He blinks once. Again.
But the scene in front of him shatters. Someone spun the kaleidoscope.
Blink. Blink.
Then clear. Her box comes back into focus.
Dark shapes circle around.
The priest. Words but no sound.
Raindrops on the wood. Plunk.
Plunk, Plunk.
It began long ago. It happened so fast. An unusual disease.
Very bad the doctor said. But there was one hope.
The insurance lady said they'd call back. Next week.

They tried to explain to Joey and Anne Marie. But words can’t explain.
It’s an unusual disease. Very rare they say.
And she said they would call back. Next week.
Rain beats down against the top of her box.
Blink. Blink.
The days dragged on. They flew by so fast.
She was always so brave.
She maintained her belief.
She was better than him.
Blink.
Blink.
The insurance lady said, “Maybe next week.”
The rain slowed.
Plunk. Plunk. Plunk.
She kept going to work. She couldn’t work anymore.
Doctors gave her new pills. They waited for more.
She grew smaller and smaller.
Then faded to black.



Blink.
The lady said they would call back. One more week.
Plunk.
Another raindrop on top of her box.