The hospital doors slowly slid apart, gliding seamlessly on their tracks. An old man with a cane hobbled out of the hospital, the clean air much better than the refiltered. A carer walked beside him, monitoring his every move as the cane lumbered forward inch by inch. “Why can’t we take a car?” The old man grumbled.
The carer responded, “You live half a mile away,” She tapped a clipboard cradled in her arms. “And besides, you need the exercise, Doctor’s orders!” Her inflection told that she had already been asked this question many a time.
“I don’t need the exercise,” The old man scoffed. “I’m going to die soon, anyway. I don’t know why you all don’t let me enjoy myself.” His pace slowly started to quicken, his cane tapping the pavement in a slow, methodical pattern.
The carer frowned, though she had heard the man say it several times. She used to think everyone enjoyed life and were happy as could be, but her job at the hospital had made her optimistic beliefs quickly deflate.
“What’s that show you like?” She asked, trying to spark up some small talk.
“Why do you care?” The old man spat at his carer. He clearly didn’t want to talk to her, so she decided to stay quiet.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The only sound came from the cars on the road and the Chik Chak of the cane.
They walked in tandem until they arrived at a crossing, where children were playing jump rope together. The children chanted some jump rope songs together as the carer walked up to the big pole that held the crossing button. She pushed it and returned to her spot next to the old man, the children laughing as one of them tripped on the rope. Soon, the light changed to red and the pedestrian crossing sign lit up.
The pair started across the crosswalk. They hurried along the white stripes, the carer walking slightly in front of the old man. Everything had suddenly become quiet. Almost too quiet. No bird chirps filled the air, and the rushing of cars had faded away. She couldn’t even hear the children playing anymore. The carer glanced to both sides. The pedestrian crossing still had twelve seconds and they were a little over halfway across the street. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. A sudden honk jolted her out of the silence. A white van came barrelling down the road, running the red light and heading straight toward the pair.
Time seemed to slow. As the carer stood there, frozen in shock, lurched forward, shoving his cain into her back. His cain bending with the force, making her stumble the few remaining feet to the sidewalk before she hit the ground. The white van almost sped up, soon taking up his whole vision, before everything suddenly went black.