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A Walk in the Park MAG
The sun blazed on the newly placed forget-me-nots adorning her grave. Slowly, I got off my knees and backed up. Today marked the passing of an entire year my wife and I had been apart. I was reluctant to tear my eyes from the seemingly last tangible evidence that she had even existed.
Brushing the grass from my knees, I turned slowly, hearing my joints pop and yell, begging me to stop moving altogether. Noticing the pain, it dawned on me that I had forgotten to take my arthritis pills that morning. Hand shaking, I attempted to unzip my coat pocket. My fingers feebly grasped at the zipper, but it took several tries to get it open. The doctors said that this quivering was probably mild Parkinson's disease, but it supposedly wasn't bad enough to worry about.
As I meandered from the cemetery, I awkwardly dug my left hand into the right-side pocket for the bottle. My right arm hung uselessly at my side in its sling, nothing but an encumbrance.
Grunting with success, I squinted at the label, trying to read it. I lifted my hand to adjust my glasses, smudging them a bit. I sighed, taking a pill while bracing myself for the long walk home. After the third accident last month, the court had revoked my license, and now I was forced to walk everywhere from my retirement housing.
“Retirement housing”: a year later, I still can't call it home.
Adopting a smile, I focused my attention on my stroll through the park. It was the one thing that never failed to lift my spirits. Shuffling across the street, I turned my hearing aid up, ready to absorb the life surrounding me as I entered the park.
The stroll had only one drawback: my asthma. About halfway through the wheezing became unbearable. Huffing, I collapsed on the nearest bench. As I reached for my inhaler, I once again considered an easier life, one without all of these physical restraints. If only.
As my breathing returned to normal, I looked around, enthralled by the scenery. The dark green foliage contrasted with the pink flowers. Songbirds were singing their hymns for all who would listen. I smiled. This was where I belonged.
A scream pierced the ethereal atmosphere.
“Oh my God, are you serious? Yes, of course I'll go out with you!” A girl a few feet away jumped in excitement. I watched with interest as she began texting and screaming with others. I shook my head, marveling at the youth's energy. After a few moments, I stood, prepared to finish my trek. Again, I ignored the pain in my joints.
The girl was jumping about when it happened.
With my first few steps, she dropped it.
It fell in slow motion, spinning. There was nothing I could do.
My foot fell. It crunched.
I skidded on the remains of the phone and fell to the ground. Wincing, I looked up into her eyes, hoping she would help me up, but I saw nothing but hate.
She spoke feverishly, anger flaring. “Aargh! Why does everything bad always happen to me?”