Department of Foreseeable Outcomes (Riley)
Jan 25, 2011 22:10:09 GMT -5
Post by Joshua Bernstein on Jan 25, 2011 22:10:09 GMT -5
Josh pressed himself against the wall, allowing a rather wide old man to toddle past, followed by a beanpole of a woman in a wheelchair and attached to an oxygen tank. He loved his parents, but visiting was depressing. So many of the inhabitants were failing either mentally or physically, and his parents were no exception; his mother could barely see and it was a good day if his father recognized him: He thought back to Sean's promise that they would live out the end of their days at the same retirement community and shuddered; he sincerely hoped he never got to the point where he couldn't take care of himself. Dying before that happened seemed a preferable option to living any amount of time with the constant reminder of mortality.
His mother didn't seem to mind, though; she had easily made friends with some of the other residents, mostly other women who had very sickly husbands or were widowed. And she still managed to get out, even if she probably shouldn't be allowed to drive anymore. And he had been visiting more frequently since returning to his own home, to make up for the weeks he'd been unable to get out.
This particular visit (taken on his lunch break) had been largely taken up by discussion of his siblings and their families, which was a nice change of pace from her worrying over his mugging. He hadn't told her the exact truth about that, and even if he had he wasn't keen on talking about it. His brother and sister and nieces and nephews were a welcome change.
Once he'd managed to extricate himself from the conversation (with a promise to return soon) he found himself in the hallway, attempting to blend into the wall while the elderly streamed past. What were so many of them doing out at this time, anyway?
Oh, right. Lunch. Which his stomach vocally reminded him he hadn't had.
"Don't worry," He reassured it in a whisper, stepping back into the middle of the hall, "we'll get something on the way back to the office."
And then he jumped back against the wall as a very tall someone almost ran him over.
"Riley!" He yelped in surprise. He hadn't seen the landscaper since his New Year's Eve party, which had gone considerably better than the last party they'd attended together. Maybe it was the pies. Or maybe it was the fact that Riley had planned on having guests. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."
His mother didn't seem to mind, though; she had easily made friends with some of the other residents, mostly other women who had very sickly husbands or were widowed. And she still managed to get out, even if she probably shouldn't be allowed to drive anymore. And he had been visiting more frequently since returning to his own home, to make up for the weeks he'd been unable to get out.
This particular visit (taken on his lunch break) had been largely taken up by discussion of his siblings and their families, which was a nice change of pace from her worrying over his mugging. He hadn't told her the exact truth about that, and even if he had he wasn't keen on talking about it. His brother and sister and nieces and nephews were a welcome change.
Once he'd managed to extricate himself from the conversation (with a promise to return soon) he found himself in the hallway, attempting to blend into the wall while the elderly streamed past. What were so many of them doing out at this time, anyway?
Oh, right. Lunch. Which his stomach vocally reminded him he hadn't had.
"Don't worry," He reassured it in a whisper, stepping back into the middle of the hall, "we'll get something on the way back to the office."
And then he jumped back against the wall as a very tall someone almost ran him over.
"Riley!" He yelped in surprise. He hadn't seen the landscaper since his New Year's Eve party, which had gone considerably better than the last party they'd attended together. Maybe it was the pies. Or maybe it was the fact that Riley had planned on having guests. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."
