Visiting Hour

Word Count: 221

I rolled over and looked at the clock beside my bed. Three o'clock on the button. I had just woken from the same dream at the same time. The dream I've had for the last 4 nights. Four nights since my mother passed.

It wasn't sudden or unexpected, it was cancer and she fought like a trooper for almost 13 years. She'd managed to push out 4 best selling novels all while fighting that hideous disease. She was in so much pain she'd begged for death near the end, but now she was at peace. Finally.

She was at peace, but I was no where near peace. Not with this dream rousing me every single night. It was of my mother in the hosipital, three men in suits stood on either side of her bed and my brother leaned over her with a clip board telling her to sign. As she signed she began to cry and said to him
"But this isn't fair to your sister."
In my dream I called out
"What isn't fair mommy?"
But before she could answer I woke up, every time and then spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what it was. But tonight I needed to get some sleep. We had an appointment with the lawyers in the morning and would be reviewing her will.