Author's note: This is an epilogue to my story 'Endgame', so it might help to read that first.
These Foolish Things
A dusty piano stool with medical journals mixed up with the sheet music
An out of date reference book with 'moron!' scrawled in the margin
Crutches with 'love' and 'hate' written on the handles in Liquid Paper
A tuxedo jacket with a hole chewed through it by sharp rat teeth
These foolish things remind me of you
An old blue button-down shirt used as a rag to clean a car
Out of date bottles of drugs prescribed by a Dr J Wilson
A large pair of Nike sneakers; the left more worn than the right
A motorbike screaming down the empty freeway at dawn
These foolish things remind me of you
A wedding ring, discolored on the inside
A pile of unopened, unanswered conference invitations
A half empty bottle of twelve-year old malt
The click of a cane on the sidewalk outside the window
These foolish things remind me of you
The echoing hallways of the hospital at midnight
A pager that calls but no-one answers
A ringing telephone in an empty office
Footsteps dragging one behind the other, like the ghost of a limp
These foolish things remind me of you
The bright workshop smell of WD40
A fresh pot of coffee brewing; but who's to drink it?
The bleep of a machine as it monitors the last minutes of someone's heart
A whiteboard with nothing written on it
These foolish things remind me of you.
FIN