They said that she was terminal.
It seemed like just yesterday that Lucille was healthy, happy and completely unaware as to her condition, though in many ways this was true. Not being the type to frequent the doctor’s office, the illness had stricken her long before she ever considered the possibility that she’d be living out her last days so soon.
Mets to the bone is what the nursing staff called it, but its name made no matter to her, as it was nothing more than her way to go. She never did put much thought into her own impending mortality, not until it was thrust under the watchful eye of the microscope as it were.
The curtains danced in the cool breeze as Lucille stared out the window as best she could to admire the garden in the distance. Having no family to comfort her, the bevy of assorted fauna and flora that grew around the stone walkway that met a fountain in the center would have to suffice.
Staring out into the garden, Lucille had caught herself a time or two in deep thought of her God. She wasn’t religious, but she’d had the pleasure time and again in her life to have not been many things until they came up. Lucille wasn’t the kindest person at many times in her life and it presented itself well at her death bed.
Lucille felt as though she were fading from this life, though she couldn’t be sure for countless obvious reasons. The house food was terrible, so she’d long since stopped eating it. She expected dying to hurt a lot more than it did, but with all the medication they pumped her with, she felt little of anything in a physical sense.
And so it was that Lucille’s final days would be spent alone with but only the faint ability to stare out into a world that she was always just too busy to notice. And yet, elated still; euphoric for every moment that preceded this one and thankful for everyone still yet to follow.
Lucille smiled as she closed her eyes, welcoming whatever it is that may come.