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Allen McGill, Mexico

Release

It's finished now, the emptiness complete. My senses began to ebb the moment I entered her first hospital room: a glint of steel, IV tubes, starched whitenesss.

Past now, her stoic struggle with pain; my pretense at believing her pretense.

Hollow, cold, I leave for the last time, alone.

Tires squeal, horns blast, traffic lights flash in glaring sunlight.

A bus. It could take me home–no, not a home, just where I suspend consciousness in sleep. Only to have the pain return worse than before on waking. Silent wails within my mind–men don't cry out–someone might hear.

I wander, directionless, unseeing.

Silence beckons me from beyond wide, double doors. She used to pray here. What good? She was spared nothing. Darkness enshrouds me–the hush of shadows–flickering flames in red glass cups–plaster saints with sympathetic faces.

The pew is solid, supportive. I sit, struggle for breath. My chest tightens with each gasp for air: inhale...release...again...spasms. My throat constricts with pain, threatens to strangle. Eyes burn, fill, overflow....

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