Sarah's story
O God, it happened so fast! – 5 fall
(04.03.2023, rev. 01.03))
Oh, God, look at my face! Red, yellow, green, orange, purple, blue. From the eye sockets to the jawbone, and now seeping even down the neck. Not to mention the stitches. How can I face the world like this? People will think I have a violent paramour. If I don't frighten them away first, zombie-lady. Embarassing. But I will just front it. Too complicated to explain anyway, it happened so fast. So fast I don't even know what happened.
It was a quarter past five on Sunday afternoon, and I had a plan to go to the cinema. I was crossing the street, not along the zebra stripes of course, just taking the most direct way, as usual, and then I found myself on the pavement across the way, face crushed onto the concrete, and a man was trying to help me up. Had I tripped at the curb and the blow knocked me out for a few seconds before and after the fall? Or did I have a mini-blackout and then fall? I still don't know.
The man, white-bearded and solicitious, helped me to my feet and guided me back across the street (still jaywalking, of course—we all do it) so that I could sit on the bench outside the bakery. I said I would be all right, and after about a minute I pulled myself together enough to walk the ten yards or so to my front door, pull out my key, open the door and go up the five steps to my landing and let myself in. That was about as much as I could do. I didn't look in a mirror but knew I must be a sight, there was clearly blood running down the side of my face. Above all, I didn't feel well at all, so I phoned 15 and they sent an ambulance with two men who examined me and carted me off to the hospital. The kindly white-bearded man was outside in the street, still solicitous.
In the Emergency service they put me on a trolley and took me to various services for every possible examination: physical, neurological, electrocardiogram, blood test, two scans and who knows what else, and finally, at about one thirty in the morning they said I would be staying there all night. On the trolley in the hall among a dozen or more other patients, separated by folding screens. The doctor-in-chief, seen for the first time, said it was to keep me under observation. I practically snorted. I already knew that nobody ever came by to look at us. I could have passed away, or had convulsions, and they would never have known. There was a woman a few beds down who moaned and called, but nobody ever came. The night crew was too busy laughing and talking, not only in daytime voices but practically shouting, breaking open crates (to the sound of it) and taking out heavy things that they dropped on the floor. That was until they started their birthday party. Finally at half past four I fell asleep and slept a good sound three hours.
I was awakened by Ella (like Fitzgerald, she said) the very friendly and kind student doctor who had examined me the night before, an interne, and her assistant an externe named Sydney. She had sewn up my cut the night before while Sydney watched, and now Sydney gave me a tetanous shot while Ella supervised. After breakfast they sent me home.
***
I thought that was it. I was supposed to move back home to Burgundy next Sunday. But now they want to operate, to put some bit of bone back into place. Open a slit under my eye and another in the roof of my mouth. Luckily I won't see, hear or feel any of it. But I am already wondering how much that will hurt when it's over. Oh well, there will be pain-killers, I suppose. Thank you, modern medecine. And thank you, nature. I won't go so far as to say thank you, God, who made us, because I'm not really sure about all that. But the human body is fantastic. It fixes itself, knits itself back together, asking for only a little help sometimes. And patience
In the taxi on Monday, coming back from the first hospital stay, there was another patient. Her voice was aged and quavery but she said she still drove and hoped they would not pass a law that prohibited people over 80 from driving. I said I had already given up my car, because I didn't feel safe on the roads, mostly on account of my bad eyes, and that I mostly walked. I had been feeling rather aged lately myself, but when she got out of the taxi and the driver helped her to hobble slowly up to her door, I realized I was still in far better shape than she was. Count your blessings. + 825 wds
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Katherine's story
The mist was damp and clammy, the sort of damp that makes you wet without you really noticing it. Not that she was really paying attention, she just wanted to get out and walk. It was a pitch black sky, no stars, no satelites, no moon and as of a few months ago now, no street lights. Just a silent black space. So she pulled out her favorite Beanie and put the head torch on to the brightest setting and headed out into the woods with her 3 dogs who would much rather have stayed in their warm beds by the fire but with the chance of getting a biscuit treat they decided to take a chance of more rewards and headed out into the darkness.
She often thought about her life before the parties, the dresses, the men, the cocktail bars and the dance floor! Now far from the glamour she was just happy being outside, doing her thing, mainly alone. She enjoyed her own company, just like her Grandmother. Never lonely, always busy, enjoying the solitude selfishly. No-one to answer to, the bed to herself apart from the geriatric cat!! She couldn’t help thinking how much longer would it keep going !!! Then instantly felt guilty.
Pretty self assured and confident she was not used to feeling uncertain and confused . The sickness in her stomach and the wave of emotions that kept creeping up, subsiding then returning, swirling through her mind but not being able to control it. Seeped into her mind like the damp mist around her right now, silently.
Unable to pinpoint exactly when and why she was having these thoughts was deeply disturbing to her.
She knew that it was clearly linked to the death of her Father. Her brother got the call from their Stepmother a few days ago, she wondered why she didn’t get the call as she was the eldest child. She was sensitive that way. He was clearly very distressed “Oh, God, Oh God it happened so fast! He went to bed and then he just sighed and was gone.! “
The extinction of life.
She was an orphan!
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Paula's story
The detective sat across the table from her. “Just tell us, in your own words, exactly what happened that night.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered. “It happened so fast.”
“I understand,” the detective said. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
“Well,” the young woman began, then faltered and began to whimper. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I’m so very upset, you see. So very upset.”
The detective turned to his colleague. “Go get a cup of tea for Miss Telly, please.” The police officer slipped quietly out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.
“Let’s begin again,” the detective said. “Take your time.”
“It’s just so upsetting. So very upsetting,” she repeated. “But I shall be brave.”
The officer returned, and placed a cup of tea in front of her on the desk, alongside a small pitcher of milk.
“Go ahead,” the detective urged. “It’s important that you tell us everything that happened, exactly as you remember it.”
“Well,” the young woman began again. “You see, I was snuggled into my favorite chair, in the study.”
“That room looks out onto the street, is that right?” the detective asked.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s a lovely room, has the most comfortable chair clothed in the most beautiful floral chintz, chosen by my grandmother, you know. And the walls are lined with cozy bookshelves, and the rug is the most beautiful shade of blue, and it’s just steps from the kitchen, so it’s so easy to fetch a snack or a cuppa, and …”
The detective interrupted her gently. “And what happened next” he asked.
“Well,” she said. “I was watching my favorite program on the television. ‘Peaky Blinders,’ do you know it?
“Yes,” the detective smiled. “I know it well.”
“See, it was at a crucial point in the show. Tommy’s been captured! And he’s on his knees in a lonely field, staring into his own grave! I could barely watch, I was so frightened for him. But at the same time, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. Do you know that feeling, Detective?”
“Yes,” he nodded gravely. “I do, indeed.”
She stirred a bit of milk into her tea, and took a sip. “It was just then, just then! A terrific noise, so loud you could hardly believe it, and the window behind me and the television screen in front of me shattered at the same moment. I was so upset, so upset! Who could do such a thing? Why would anyone do such a thing?”
Just then, a third officer entered the room, bent down, and whispered something to the detective. “Thank you,” the detective told him, then turned back to Miss Telly.
“It’s all right,” the detective assured her. “We have arrested the perpetrators, two boys who found their father’s gun and decided to have a little ‘fun.’ I understand how upset you must be, but I can tell you that you were not targeted; you are completely safe, there’s no need to worry. They decided to shoot up a few trash bins, and one shot went wild and into your house. But if it would make you more comfortable, we can have a copper stationed outside your house for a night or two, if that will lessen your fear.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” the young woman said. “I’m not in the least afraid. That’s not what’s so upsetting.”
“Then, what is it?” the detective asked.
“The telly! They wrecked my telly!” she wailed. “However will I found out what happens next on Peaky Blinders??”
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Geraldine's story
Jack and Jill were on their way back to the Pacific coast after having visited Chucicamata, the largest open air copper mine in the world and setting off through the « Valle della Luna » towards San Pedro de Atacama.
The coloured mountains against the deepest blue sky they’d ever come accross were still printed in their eyes. The depth of the mine, where the caterpillars working down there just looked like little dinky toys and the men like tiny tiny ants were still flabagasting !
And the trip through the « Valle de la Luna » ! What a good name for this region where it only rained once or twice in a century : the most infertile desert ever ! Its deep craters were due to the salpeter formations with white edges and deep grey and rusty stones. And from what we know about the moon, it’s very similar to the pictures the astronauts and cameras have taken from the satellite.
Not an insect, not a bird, not the slightest sprig or blade of grass : all mineral and nothing but mineral. Then after a couple of hours in the jeep, landing in San Pedro de Atacama, little oasis with trees, grass, chicken, a few donkeys well…. Life ! How restful, soothing and peaceful. Water flowing alongside the dirt tracks, that water that brings life to all and everything…
Let’s get back to Jack and Jill. They were hitch-hicking and this jeep had given them a lift towards the coast, driving down the steep curves from the mountains to the ocean. He dropped them in the outskirts of a small town built on the sand and surrounded by sand.
- Now, where are we going to find a bit of food and where are we going to sleep ? This question was the one they had had to face everyday since they had started this great trip through South America ! They had left Europe with a very small budget : 5$ a day, meant to include everything. They mainly eat on the markets where food was so cheap and slept either outdoors away from towns or accepting people’s invitations. And they moved along hitch-hiking, never knowing where they would be dropped. So, that was the adventure !
- They settled their bags on their shoulders and started walking towards the town. They found public loos and managed to fill their flasks and spare bottles with water. Also found a few tomatoes, avocados and a bit of bread : that would do for tonight. And off they went, leaving the town behind them to find a place for the evening and night.
- As they were walking along the beach, they came accross a few small log cabins that looked like fishermen’s shelters. The one huge wave from the Pacific was regularly crushing on the sand, going forth and back with the same and unique music to it. Sleeping on the beach would be fine, rocked by the sea…
A man showed up and came towards them :
- Hello, I’m Luis ! How are you ! What brings you here ?
- Hello Luis, well, we’re travelling along the coast, going to Lima, and thought we’d sleep around here tonight. I’m Jack and here is Jill !
- But Lima is so far… You’ll never get there !
- Oh ! No. It’s only about 2.500 kms. We could be there next month, but there’s no hurry !
- Oh God ! It happened so fast ! Luis told us :
- Well, you can sleep here, in this little shed next to mine, showing us a small wooden shelter with no roof and the walls about 1,80m high. It had a low swinging door to it. You’ll be protected of strong winds and of the sun in the morning. And we can eat together if you want to.
So, Jack and Jill accepted and started talking with Luis who told them about his very simple fisherman’s life, day in, day out with it’s good and bad fisheries. After a while, he asked them to go and fetch some white wine : « por favor, un vinito blanco » ! He explained where the closest place was and sent them off. By this time, Jack and Jill who had left their bags in the shelter were a bit worried… What if Luis drank too much ! Was it going to be a safe place to sleep in ? « Alea jacta est » !
When they came back with the wine, Luis had gathered a few of his friends around and they all started eating the potatoes Luis had cooked and drinking wine. Jack and Jill were cautiously on guard, not drinking too much and following the conversation. After a while, they told their host they were tired and needed to go to sleep and headed towards the shelter thanking Luis for his hospitality !
They had noticed that, while they went off buyng the wine, their bags had been opened and looked through ! So, they decided to only sleep with one eye closed, which meant Jack would be on watch while Jill would get a bit of sleep and vice versa. Jack took his opinel knife out of his bag and kept it near his hand. They could hear the men shouting louder and louder nearby and really felt trapped in the shelter.
Jill was the first one to sleep as Jack took the watch. She woke up to his loud snoring, opened her eyes and began to panic at what she saw : Luis was standing behind the short swinging-door looking at her with such a lecherous eye that she immediately felt completely naked. She strongly controled the scream that was reaching her lips, went for the knife and started shaking Jack like hell. Luis turned away and started walking back to his home….
- Gosh, you bastard ! You were to keep an eye on everything and here you are snoring like hell while this man is looking at us ! He could have raped me, stolen our bags or money !....I bet you would still be sleeping like a baby…
- Jack pulled her towards him : I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m sorry you were so frightened. But you know, he’s drunk and weak and you don’t have to worry.
Jill stayed awake, wide awake the rest of the night trusting noone no more. With the feeling that Oh God ! it could have happened so fast ! Jack woke up with the sun streaming over him the next morning.
They got up, checked their bags : nothing missing. Went around to Luis’ house to thank him and found him fast asleep, snoring on the bench in front of the house. They left a little note thanking him and a bit of the bread they had bought ans started walking North.
Lima was still a long way away!
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Jackie's story
Oh my God…it happened so fast
The stench greeted her as she arrived home after a weeks holiday in the Swiss Alps where the air had been as pure as a hospital oxygen tank. It hailed her like a slap in the face, the smell was just like a Moroccan leather tanning pit – overpowering and made her gag.
Perhaps this is why she felt overcome with nausea as she walked down to the garden stepping onto carefully chosen paving stones toward this terrible smell to check up on her latest acquisition. Sure that she had shut the door of her greenhouse before leaving so was surprised to see an unusual curly vine like green stem of a plant protruding from under her door that must have forced the door open while she had been away.
It was stretching into the grass and starting to curl around her beloved rose tree.
The greenhouse had been a present to herself to enjoy and always been her dream. Inheriting some money unexpectedly, she had thought, what is it at my age that would really bring me a lot of pleasure. She imagined herself pottering for hours with flower pots, digging her hands in soil and seeing little shoots of tomatoes and lettuce grow and feeding her large family from her produce. She would be so very happy to spend her days in her special place. So the day arrived when it would be delivered and put together. She hadn’t had time before her holiday to plant anything except for a gift that her aunt who had arrived unexpectedly plant pot in hand. They hadn’t been much on speaking terms since the reading of the will in the Notaire’s office – but now she remembered that her Aunt had quickly disappeared after her visit telling her to plant it quickly in the corner and gave it an unpronounceable name. She had thought nothing of it and put it in the far corner of her greenhouse. Now she remembered the scowl on her aunt’s face as the notary confirmed inheritance to herself only. After all she had been her Uncle’s favorite.
Coming back from her holiday, she entered the greenhouse and could see trailing stems twirling and twisting round on the wooden base. Snake-like shoots with leaves and as she walked it tangled in her shoes – moving even as she bent over to climb up her leg. Overwhelmed, she discovered this snake like plant was everywhere and rapidly covering every inch of her glass walls with aerial rootlets forming and growing aggressively.
She examined one of the green shoots and to her horror saw it was throbbing with life. Although there was no way the plant could see her she felt it had invisible eyes and was watching her every movement.
Very soon it would start to curl around the windows and in a few weeks the greenhouse would be totally covered and hidden from view. It could then start to push against the wall of glass and lift off the roof – perhaps even jumping onto her own house to start climbing there. Would she wake up one day to find the plant had imprisoned her, curling around her front door? She would be stuck, a prisoner in her own house. Feeling distressed and sweaty just thinking about this as her imagination was running away with her she advanced further into the hothouse.
The smell of this terrible plant/animal was so ferocious that she had to put her arm in front of her mouth to stifle a gag. My God…that happened fast….so she cut it into tiny pieces and burnt them one by one.
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Patrice poem
Annemarie's story
Oh God, it Happened so Fast!
It was supposed to be a fun day out. Eight children / teenagers ranging from ten to fifteen years and two adults grudgingly agreeing to take them…to the adventure water park. They were enveloped by sapphire blue skies; the warm waters lapping the lake's edge beckoned them in for a leisurely swim or for messing about in boats but, no, what they craved was the adventure park. It was crowded, screamingly noisy and involved lots of queuing.
Admittedly skimming along in what amounted to a water sleigh was fun but then one of them wanted to go on the high drop. Please, please would she go with him because Christopher’s dad was going on another ride with the younger ones. Eventually she gave in, her fear eclipsed by the desire to prove her courage, to be cool before the teenagers and youngsters.
The queue was a long, snake of scantily-covered young bodies serpentining its way through ornamental shrubs. The sun was blazing, burning her shoulders her white shoulders an angry red as they sweltered in the unshaded areas. Eventually they reached the steps to the high drop; metal steps resounding with the tramp of bare feet continuously marching onwards and upwards like so many soldiers on a march. At twenty metres she could see the curve of the lake, the purple bougainvilleas sprawling up the wall of Cipriano hotel; apprehension set in. She gripped the rail, her sun-red knuckles turning to a drained white. At twenty-five metres a trembling fear overtook her but thoughts of turning back were constrained, her way back impeded by the incessant tramp behind and below her…nor was there any room for passing, and certainly not fifty or more youngsters. She was committed. Courage girl, it can’t be that bad if all these people are happy to do it, she bravely muttered to herself, grasping the rail and defiantly refusing to look down.
Christopher, just in front of her, sat down and pushed himself off. When she reached the platform, thirty-four metres high, her heart was galloping; she was rooted to the spot, unable to look left or right and certainly not below at the crinkly red rooftops and the sailing boats slapping in the waves.
It was her turn to sit and push off into the void; paralysed she was stuck on the tiny platform, conscious of screams and shouts far below and impatient youngsters behind her. She shakily sat down, delving into the backwaters of courage and she shouted to the bronze Adonis, guardian of the high drop, who stood beside her:
“ Just push me! “
And he did!
For a split second she was aware she was midair, not actually on the almost perpendicular slide and for a nanosecond she wondered if she would miss the slide and plummet to earth, then she felt the hard, wet, metal safety of the slide and the next instant she was plunging through the water-tough below when a hand,(Christopher’s father's ) reached down to lift her from the water. With her other hand she hastily rearranged her one-piece swimsuit wedgie, most of which was round her waist.
“ My goodness, that was fast, “ she burbled through the water, still quivering, heart still hammering.
“I'm so proud of you,” beamed Christopher, “ you know you're probably the oldest person to do that!”
And that didn’t make me feel cool, courageous or compensated!
