She looked down at him. He lay in the hospital bed, his body so small, his skin so flaccid about his face, his lines, his wrinkles seemed to have faded.
"He doesn't really look like him."
Zoe murmured, tilting her head and she reached out to touch her fathers fingers, they were cold and stiff and she withdrew her hand quickly.
"Are you ok?"
Zoe nodded, turned to Connie who stood beside her.
"I knew it was coming."
She said and drew up her shoulders, letting them fall as she exhaled.
Connie slipped an arm about her back, her fingers about her arm and Zoe felt her squeeze her gently.
"Thank you for coming with me."
Zoe whispered, and she looked back at her father, how still he was...
"You couldn't come alone."
Connie said simply, and Zoe nodded, turning ever so slightly. She could smell Connie's perfume, she's smelled it before, but now as she felt Connie's body against her own she had a feeling that whenever she smelled it again it would remind her of this day, this moment.
"Where do you think he is?"
Connie asked after a pause and Zoe drew up her shoulders into a shrug again.
"Wherever he is he obviously didn't want me to know about it."
She said and raised a hand to rub at her forehead. She felt Connie's fingers move against her, heard her sigh, and for a fleeting moment she wished that Connie would just hold her.
"I'm sure he..."
Connie began but she stopped upon hearing the door behind them open. She turned her head, though Zoe remained looking down at her father's hand.
She felt Connie's arm fall from her back and she stepped away, she heard Max's shoes squeak on the floor, his arm about her shoulders.
"Zoe..."
He whispered.
"Where were you?"
She asked, refusing to look at him.
He rested his chin against her head, she felt his stubble against her scalp, caught the scent of cigarette smoke on his breath.
"Tabitha forgot her PE kit."
He murmured, looking at the body on the bed laid out before them.
Zoe nodded slowly, she didn't have the energy nor the inclination to fight.
"I'm sorry."
He whispered, and kissed the side of her head, she leant against him and he wrapped his other arm about her, linking his fingers at her shoulder.
She heard Connie leave, heard the door click shut.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here."
He said and she shook her head.
"It's not your fault."
She whispered.
"Are you ok?"
He asked, and she nodded as she had done when Connie had asked, and she suspected she may be asked that question many more times before the days end.
"I don't think it's sunk in yet...that he's gone I mean. That he doesn't exist any more..."
She paused and he held her tighter.
"There'll never be another person like him."
She sighed as she spoke and turned her face into his chest, the smell of him always comforted her.
"My Mum once told me that people are like snowflakes, every one special and unique, and in the morning you have to shovel them off the driveway..."
He said, and although neither of them were quite sure why he had said it, it made her smile...he always made her smile, whatever the situation, and for that reason she turned and kissed the warm skin of his neck. She felt him smile against her hair.
Did it matter, then, he asked himself as her hair brushed against his lips. Did it matter that he must inevitably cease, completely, like Zoe's father. All this would go on without him...He drew in a breathe. Did he resent it? Or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely...
It is possible to die. He thought.
It is possible to die.
I hope this is ok...I hope it's not too cryptic...and above all I hope it makes sense as I've just written this with a cat pawing my legs, and my two children using my writing room as a hobby horse racing track...xxx
