Story written by Franklin Rayeski — Please do not use without crediting me
I lie on pale-white crinkled sheets on top of my soft, feathered mattress. The window at the feet of my bed spills in sunlight from the blue world outside. I lie there with my eyes switching between the window, the lavender walls and the spinning wooden fan above my head. The air is filled with the smell of clean sheets and pine carried from the fresh breeze from the window. The fan hums quietly and birds chirp here and there as those feathered friends glide by every now and then. I look beside me at the small lump of blankets pulsating slowly. I lean over and gently run my fingers through my grandchild’s hair.
We lay there, relaxed and serene, lying and waiting for nothing. Nothing could urge us to go and continue the day; we were simply in no hurry. We stayed there as if time was frozen, like nothing would be able to start it up again—not the loud barking of the neighbor’s dog, nor the crashing sound of the cat knocking something over down the hall. All of those disturbances were not strong enough to break our peace; they only erupted, distilled, then faded away, letting the simple aura of the room take back its crown.
I don’t sit there and ponder over the hardships I’ve faced—or the ones will have to face once I get up. I just enjoy the moment. This quick, simple, sweet and gentle moment of doing nothing. The moment where I can appreciate my successes and regrets that have brought me here—that have guided me through my long and rocky life.
I look at my grandchild again and caress his cheek with my wrinkly fingers. I can’t help but smile and let hope and joy writhe through my soul. I continue to lie on these pale and pure sheets and let time continue on with its strange path. I wait there, in that serene moment, for my son’s son to awaken, and when he does, we can join the world again in its one-way walk towards the horizon.