Three Line Tales : The rest is silence*

 

photo by Ben White via Unsplash

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Watching my small son sing was the best – he’d inhale so deeply, the force of his own breath would make him stand on tiptoe, gradually sinking to the ground as he sang, like a deflating balloon.

The sound wasn’t good – he’d sing whatever came into his head, regardless of the tune – but his grinning enthusiasm, that was what I loved.

I watch his chest rise and fall now, the mechanical rhythm of the ventilator in place of his own puppyish gasping. I long to take him in my arms but he’s attached to the bed with lines and drips, all the things that keep him alive.

I wish I could hear that tuneless song just once more before he goes.

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Written for Sonya’s Three Line Tales. See the pic and hone a tale. See here to join in and to read the other stories.

*The title comes from the Prince of Denmark’s last words in Shakespeare’s Hamlet.