The List

I don't own these characters; I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had.

Just remember, I am not a doctor and have no desire to be one, so some of the medical facts in this little tale may be incorrect. And of course, please don't look to me for total historical accuracy. I'm not even historically accurate about my own history.

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Everybody has a list of things they'd like to do someday. What would be on your list if you were only given a couple of months to live?

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Numbly, she walked down the stairs from Doc's office and made her way slowly down the boardwalk, to her business. Her thoughts were confused and muddled. Though her spells, as she called them, had been coming more frequently lately and did seem to be a little more severe than before, she'd never suspicioned they were that bad.

'Blood disease', Doc had said sadly. Although he had no way of proving it for a fact without a shadow of a doubt, which was impossible, he'd been fairly sure of his diagnosis. She was going to die. And her death would not be long in coming.

Doc had warned her that since there wasn't much time, anything she wanted done, before she died, she'd better do it soon. Anything. Big word with lots of meanings. There were all sorts of anything's she wanted to do before she died. But where to start.

She supposed she should start with a will. Though she had no family, and few really close friends, she did have a thriving business that she loved and it should go to the one person she trusted the most to take care of it.

But after that was done, what then? Well, she'd have to think on that. When you believe you have a long lifetime before you, you don't look at life the same as when you know you don't.

Oh there were things she'd wanted to do. Things she'd always wanted to try, but for one reason or another she'd never gotten to them. "Someday," she'd say to herself and go on about her work. She now knew her 'Someday' was almost upon her.

Smiling softly, thoughts of him came to mind. The tall man that had taken her heart so many years before. She had done a lot over the years, sacrificed a lot, to be near him and with him. But he had never claimed her, as she had claimed him.

In truth, there were times she wondered, if he even realized what he'd really meant to her all these years. If he loved her even half as much as she loved him. He had said once, a long time ago, that he loved her that much. Did he still?

With a shake of her head, she realized it didn't matter much now. There were a great number of things that didn't matter much now.

Wearily she climbed the stairs to her home above her business and let herself into her rooms. Looking around at the tastefully decorated room and the knick knacks and things she'd acquired over the years, she thought of how very useless it all was. None of these things were going to keep her from dying. They weren't going to soothe her or make her feel better. They were simply that, things. Useless, pretty things.

For several moments she stood in the center of her room looking about. Finally she decided on a plan of action. Going over to her small oak desk in the corner, she pulled a piece of paper and a stubby pencil from a drawer and sat down and began to write.

For half an hour, bent studiously over her desk, she would write then scratch out then write again. Finally, rubbing her tired shoulders, she read through the list she had compiled and nodded her head in agreement with herself. Yes. This was it. This was the list for the rest of her life, short though both of them were.

The intensity with which she had approached her task had tired her quite a bit. Doc had told her it would be so. But she shook off the exhaustion and rose. Taking her reticule, she took another glance about her home and left. Time was of the essence, especially for her. Though not overly long, her list did have quite a few things on it that she intended to accomplish, before she drew her last breath.

She might as well get started.

TBC