packing her bag for the hospital— a robe and some socks— while others were leaving for holidays (no one should die in the summer) anxiously looking at scans and reports, at the frowns of the doctors, while others were posing for photos (no one should die in the summer) crushing some ice to be pushed between her cracked lips while others were sipping their cocktails (no one should die in the summer) begging for drugs that would lessen her pain and allow her to sleep while others were hitting the clubs (no one should die in the summer) listening to moans and the suction of mucus from out of her throat while others were singing in bars (no one should die in the summer) feeling her hand growing cold as her eyes lost their focus while others were dancing and flirting (no one should die in the summer) watching her body be placed on a gurney and rolled down the hall while others were yawning and laughing (no one should die in the summer) facing the sunrise, unwilling to move and unable to cry while others were happily dreaming (no one should die in the summer)
In August
A hospital bag packed with socks and a robe while summer carries on elsewhere.

Loved this piece?
Join the conversation below and share your thoughts — what did this story make you think or feel?
Want to be published in Written Tales?
We publish poetry, flash fiction, short stories, and creative nonfiction from writers around the world.
Paid Members → Submit free as part of your membership
Non-Members → $5 Contribution per submission
Just here to read?
Written Tales is an independent, reader-supported magazine. Your membership keeps authentic voices in print.
Join Written Tales — full archive access, member challenges, and more.
