Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Compassion - Fiction Drabble - 100 words.

Hospital smell, shoes on rubber floor. He hardly knows the woman in the other room and the man walking out is a stranger. A blank face greets him. So it's over now. Empty words lie heavy in the pit of his stomach. He is not a friend, or a lover, or family. He is no one to this desolate soul. But he is the only one here. Glimmer of a moment. He hesitates. The man takes a seat. Hands clasped, head lowered. This is grief then, hesitations are through. He places his hand on a shaking shoulder, and holds on.