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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1681973
Rated: E · Fiction · Philosophy · #1681973
Experimental. Dialogue between high school boy and elderly woman.
        Today, when Frankie entered the drab beige building, he went straight to room 103--

         "Well, hi there Frankie--"

         --without even a glance at the receptionist.

         He knocked on the door and waited.

         "Go away," said a hoarse voice.

         "I wish I could," retorted Frankie. "Now open the door, Mrs. Wood."

         "Open it yourself."

         Frankie walked into the warm, musty room and watched as dust motes floated in a beam of sunlight which shone through the room's single window. An old woman sat in a wheelchair just beyond the light, a blanket on her lap.

         "How are you?" Frankie asked mechanically.

         "Not getting any younger."

         "That's fine."

         "I can feel death in my bones, but every day it passes me by. Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve this."

         "Mrs. Wood, you're only sixty-five."

         "Not getting any younger."

         "That's fine."

         Frankie wheeled the old woman out into the fresh air and sunlight. She blinked slowly, not unlike a pale creature emerging from its cave.

         "Where are we?"

         "Just outside, Mrs. Wood. I'm taking you for your daily walk."

         "Walk? Who's walking?"

         "You know what I mean."

         "Why don't you say what you mean?"

         "I mean what I say."

         "No, you don't," said the old woman.

         They walked along in silence for a moment, pausing only once when the wheels stuck on the grass. Frankie stared blankly at the other elderly folks out on their afternoon stroll, some with company and others alone.

         "When I was your age--"

         "You were never my age, Mrs. Wood."

         "I keep getting older and older but when will I die?"

         Frankie didn't reply.

         "It's too bright out here. Take me back to my room."

         "It's not time to go yet."

         "What do you know? You're too young to understand."

         "Not getting any younger."

         "You're just like me."

         "I hope not."

         "Yes," the old woman nodded. "Like me."
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1681973