Flash Fiction - The Definition of Love

Flash Fiction: The Definition of Love by DC Juris

I walked down the hall, my dress shoes squeaking on the cold tile, echoing around me like a bell tolling out my presence. Five steps to the elevator; I could find the button for the fourth floor without even looking anymore. I knew the names of all the girls at the desk. One of them asked me how my cat was recovering from his tumor removal. I mumbled an answer as I continued on. I’d been here too damn many times.

I paused outside your room, my hand on the doorknob, fingers trembling as I closed them. Who would I find on the other side? Would you be in good spirits tonight - holding tight to the chances the tests and medicines gave you? Or would you be in foul spirits - hating the pills and the needles and the doctors, and ultimately, me? Part of me looked forward to our evenings together, no matter if you were nice to me or cruel. Part of me just wanted one more moment with you, and was willing to do whatever was necessary - to either of us - to get it. The other part hated this place. Hated you for making me come here. As a whole, I hated myself.

I took a deep, steadying breath, nodded hello to a nurse as she passed, pasted on a smile, and turned the knob. “Hey, baby. How’s your day been?”

You looked up at me, face haggard, eyes bloodshot. You gestured with a jerking motion around the room. “How the fuck do you think it’s been?”

I bit my tongue; forced back the retort, the anger, the hurt, the tears. “What can I do to make it better?”





Photo credit: Image credit: >designpics / 123RF Stock Photo