The Angel of Death - A story fragment by wysiwig
Close
Hover over top left image to zoom.
Click anywhere to exit.
Members remain the original copyright holder in all their materials here at Renderosity. Use of any of their material inconsistent with the terms and conditions set forth is prohibited and is considered an infringement of the copyrights of the respective holders unless specially stated otherwise.
Description
The medical techs had helped me take down my mother's bed. She has now been lying in a hospital bed in her own home for over two months. Her pain is so intense the morphine I give her doesn't fully help. At best it puts her to sleep, at worst she hallucinates. She knows she is dieing but is stubbornly holding on. She wants to see her other children one last time. On a day I cannot forget she calls me to her bed and, in a low voice, tells me that there is a little man sitting on the windowsill in the bathroom. She can see him from her bed. It is the Angel of Death and she is not ready to go. Will I go and tell him to leave?
I walk into the bathroom. The Angel is nothing special to look at. Thinning hair and a small potbelly. I tell him he has to leave. My mother will not go with him until she has seen her children. He ignores me. I grab his shoulder and shake him. "Get out of my mother's house, now!" I shout. He gives me an indifferent look and shrugs his shoulders. He has all the time in the world. Then he passes through the unopened window of the bathroom and is gone. Somewhat shaken I walk back to my mother's bedside and kneel down. "He's gone momma." "You're a good son", she whispers.
Comments (17)
Faemike55
THAT is one interesting and spooky story! Excellent for sending a chill up and down the spine
myrrhluz
I agree, very chilling. How could you forget an experience like that? Excellently told. I was riveted and read through it twice. Your descriptions and the picture you paint are mesmerizing. Amazing experience. Wonderful writing!
durleybeachbum
Gripping. So short and yet so compelling. MARVELLOUS.
mariogiannecchini
A truly thrilling story !
tennesseecowgirl
Such a moving story. It reminds me of the night my father died, I dreamt that he called me to say goodbye and that everything would be okay, and then I woke up and I was crying because it was so real and I thought oh no I missed his call but then I realized I hadn't, he had somehow talked to me one last time. That morning a couple hours later my brother Randy called to tell me he had died during the night, but I already knew.. because he had called to say goodbye in my dream. By the way my dad held on til he could see his family too I believe, I had been out there the previous month for this birthday, and my brother drove down from Oregon that day before to be with him and he passed away that night after Randy arrived so I believe he held on to see him one final time. hugss and thanks for the story.
nagennif
This is a well written fragment. It drew me in, held my attention and made me wish there was more. Great stuff. Thanks for sharing it.
auntietk
Well written, and a most excellent story. Sitting with the dying is an unforgettable experience ... you bring back memories ...
psyoshida
Very powerful story. I was immediately drawn in and my emotions couldn't tell if it was a story or you were relating an experience, until the angel. I confess even then I wasn't sure. :) Fantastic writing!!!
Tea_Rex
It has been some months now since I began smiling every time I opened a thread in your gallery and found your writing, Mark. This piece is succinct and compelling; inevitably uplifting. I wonder whether you realize just how well you write when you draw upon memories and/or family influences. Your style, which blends subtle humour with stark reality, is broadly appealing. As a friend and interested reader I would encourage and support your efforts of bringing a collection of such written works into print, perhaps accompanied by your photography. Terry
elfin14doaks
I remember my grandmother telling me the rest of the family was in the room waiting to take her home, and saying to her Grandma, there is no one here but us. Sh smiled at me and said they are the ones that are no longer among the living. They are here and they were waiting. This story reminded me of that.
sandra46
SPECTACULAR FRAGMENT!!! GREAT WORK!!!
beachzz
Powerful, poignant story. My mom came to me after she died to tell me she was "just fine". Thanks for sharing this moment.
jocko500
my mom held on to to see all her kids one last time and then she die too. it spooky but true
hipps13
me dad is on his way he was in the hospital all weekend and so sad can it be as life drains wonderful work, Mark warm hugs, Linda
jo_dis
Your poetic expression of loss is touching indeed. I know it's a cliche but time does heal and times leaves us with memories pain cannot erase.
lucindawind
amazing story I was spellbound
anahata.c
It's funny, Mark, I have been working on a piece about some dear friends who passed, and it's been the hardest thing I've ever written. And I come here, and this short 'fragment' says so much in just 2 paragraphs. It says so much. I've had your writing on 'tap', since the last piece I read of yours. (A beautiful piece on your father.) I've spent so much time trying to keep up with current uploads, I've let this project go. It was time to return...And when I read this, I thought: What concision you have with words; how much you can gather and give in just 2 paragraphs.
I understand why some of your commenters called this "chilling" (or similar). It is. But it's also loving. And the calm with which you relay is extremely pacifying. I mean that. It just soothes. Strange to have "soothe," when someone suffers so much, and you see the Angel of Death. But you gave us "soothe". And one hopes that that sunk into your mother---and maybe it was the reason the angel left. Not just because of your admonishment, but because of your calm. He can conquer many things, but calm and love is a tough one. That, he leaves for...
An aside: Woody Allen wrote a piece about the angel of death, and he too had a kind of "schlemiel" quality (the angel). It was a New Yorker piece. They played Gin Rummy, and Allen won, so the angel had to come back another night. Your piece is much more serious and more profound; but you put humor into it, a dash of the absurd and silly; and you humanized death itself. Well, I think Allen's piece ended with the line: "I saw Death, and he's such a schlep!" You stuck a moment like that into this piece; and It worked without a hitch. Just right.
Beautifully written, with a simple beautiful end. You're a genuine writer, Mark, and I haven't had to read many pieces to know it. You have true talent and the depth of experience to give it voice. A powerful and touching piece.
(btw, on another topic: I looked up the link about Van Gogh's Bedroom: Amazing! I'm in Chicago, and I never knew about that! Thanks for your comments, as always; and that link was a real delight! I have to see if that room is still there. Getting art into the public, what it's all about...)
wysiwig
Hi Mark,
If you liked this hop on over to: https://www.renderosity.com/mod/gallery/the-angel-of-death---end/2165624/?p where I finished the story.