The Only Eternity

With the utter drabness of the room, it remained a struggle to see. Stillness painted the place. In this sphere, the woman’s body lay as rigid as the word “no.” She lay there in a mauve dress with makeup on her face. Her hair, coiffed, looked complimentary against her brown skin. A lamp remained the only light source. Its softness showed on her body as she lay. Her straight face, nearly expressionless, displayed her twenty-six years on this Earth.

Breaths came in small increments, every one through her nose. With blinks under shut eyelids, she kept still otherwise, hands clasped at her waist. Then, her door swung open.

“Hey, Sed’, are you going to—what the hell? What are you doing?” her twenty-nine-year-old sister Sylvia asked, clearly jolted.

For a moment, Sedda stayed silent. A small yet confident sound then came from her lips. “I’m performing a dress rehearsal for the inevitable.”

“Well, it’s really creepy. You should stop. Like right now.”

Sedda expressed a small smile. “It’s okay. I’ve gotta go soon. I’m just readying myself for eternity.”

“But you won’t be there, some corpse in a box. And this is the only eternity we’ll ever know,” Sylvia reassured. Sedda sat up without moving her legs.

“Jesus, Sed’, you don’t have to get up like you’re rising from the dead!”

“It’s okay. I know you’re scared of me dying. Bladder cancer is real. I’m ready. But I could use a drink of water.”

“I know you’ve been dealt a hell of a hand, but I see those two legs still work, Sis’,.”

“Would you….?”

Sylvia sighed. “Alright. This one time. I know you’ve got enough strength left.”

“Thank you. And thanks for letting me live with you.” Sylvia nodded her head.

“It was what I had to do.” She made this statement with no treacle or cloying sense but absolute sincerity. She turned around from Sedda’s bed.

“Ice?”

“No ice,” Sedda requested.

In the kitchen, the little TV on the shelf displayed two clouds of debris forming a “Y” in the air on the evening news.

“Damn,” Sylvia said under her breath. Clearly shaken by the horrific event, she had been sidetracked by this most tragic of occurrences. By staring at the television, she felt numbess. She remembered the water. She filled a glass and returned to her sister. Once she opened the door, she saw Sedda. She remained still.

“Water, no ice, is served,” Sylvia said, putting the water on the nightstand. With a single glance, her mind raced. She noticed the hint of blue on Sedda’s face.

“No, no, no!” Sylvia exclaimed. She checked for a pulse, none registered. Sedda’s heart had stopped. Tears welled up in Sylvia’s eyes. She knelt and put her head down on Sedda’s wrist for a long time. After a brief sniffle and a deep breath, Sylvia proceeded to call the paramedics. A sense of composure overtook her spirit. She left the room as it had been, Sedda now lying in perpetual repose.