The Good Neighbour

Beryl hadn't been out of the house for weeks. The ulcers on her legs meant that she had limited mobility and the only contact that she had was with the district nurse who came to dress them every other day. She was repellent to herself and so, did not have the confidence to partake in Life. Life didn't want her malingering around its edges, sending her rank, rotting taint through everything. Life wanted youth - fresh, smooth youth. She'd keep herself to herself until Life gave up on her.

She knew that she had a new neighbour. The nurse had told her. She'd known anyway by the big van and the movers' radio and chatter as they carried heavy blanketed items up the path. She'd managed to see through the screen of overgrown weeds that acted as a shield between her living room and the outside world. She hated them, a constant reminder of her debilitation.

She hadn't seen the neighbour though but the nurse, (Sandy?) had said he was a pleasant young man. Sandy had said he'd knocked the door but Beryl hadn't heard it. Not that she'd have answered. The nurse always called her to give her time to get to the door.

"Do you want me to slip a note from you under the door, to introduce yourself?" the nurse had said. "It might be nice for you to have someone to talk to who's on your doorstep. He works from home and I think he's a bit lonely."

Beryl found the idea strangely attractive and frightening at the same time. She shook her head and said, "No, thank you."

The nurse sighed and shook her head. "You know, getting out and about would help these ulcers heal. Motion is lotion, as they say."

Beryl knew in her cynical but not yet black heart that Sandy meant well. And Sandy was used to Beryl. She just wished that she would engage. No forcing her, though.

***

Beryl made her way downstairs slowly, painfully. She opened the curtains to let the day in.

No weeds. Instead a single plant pot with mini daffodils.

This was the day that Beryl allowed the light back in.

***

366 words

I'm making a concerted effort to write stories that are filled with goodness, whether that's in the actions of the characters or in humour or love or whatever.

I love the dark as much as any writer and it is easier in some ways to find than the light, like coal in a mine, seemingly inexhaustible, but the world is such a dark place, Vocal isn't and I want to shed a little light from my small corner lamp.

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read it, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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