“You were supposed to be watching her!” I shouted at the nurse.
“I’m sorry, one minute she’s sitting by the fireplace and the next, the door was wide open. All I did was go and get some blankets.” She threw her hands up, “You know what? How about you take some responsibilities? She’s your mother, after all, and apparently, she has no ability to grasp her current situation.” With that, she snatched her purse and stormed out.
I sighed and shook my head. Damn it, she’s absolutely right. I’ve been too busy managing my own business to take notice of my ailing mother.
I sighed again before slamming the red front door shut. Bracing the cold, I made my way to the park, to the exact spot I knew my mother would be. I sat beside her on the bench. “Mother, what are you doing?”
She turned to me and smiled, “My son, if this, indeed, is my last day, I’d rather this be the last thing I see than anything in that wretched house.”
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.