Contestant Name: Aneeza H. Usmani
Topic: Voices
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Her head hurt as the dreaded mist enveloped everything again.
‘This face!’ a voice inside her head mused. ‘So familiar, but who’s she?’
Differentiating between external and internal voices was becoming harder.
‘Gran, you can’t go outside like this. It’s only March!’ A young pretty face swirled into focus, the voice protesting.
Gazing outside, she saw the trees swaying in the chilly wind and then surveyed her thin cotton dress bewildered.
‘March?’ another voice grumbled internally. ‘Wasn’t it June? Phil would know…where is he?’
Edith looked around for his familiar armchair. It wasn’t there. A sharp pain seared her head, almost making her stumble.
‘Gran, we’re running late!’ The young girl now briskly helped her with her cardigan.
‘What’s your name, sweetie?’ Hesitantly, Edith asked, as she sat in the car.
Her granddaughter fought back tears as she turned the keys in the ignition.
‘It’s Anna, Gran,’ she uttered quietly.
Edith rubbed her head. The voices were getting stronger, the images blurry. Everything seemed muddled.
‘Where’s Philip?’ Breaking the tense silence, Edith spoke again.
‘He should be home soon, Gran’ Anna bit her lip as the car sped past the cemetery, her granddad’s home for a decade, finally stopping at the hospital car-park.
‘Nice place! Have I been before?’ Edith said more to herself than Anna.
‘You’re becoming forgetful!’ A snide voice whispered in her head.
Edith slowly made her way, unknowingly to yet another yearly dementia review appointment.
Every year the mist worsening, the voices more deafening!
Total words: 248
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This is a short story entry by PLB member Aneeza H. Usmani.
Send in your entries to tpwmedia@gmail.com
For more details about this contest, visit: http://plb.thepakistaniwoman.com/contest
Wow!