“As if, had Polly the aid of just one more grade of vision, past ultraviolet, past X-ray, she would be able to watch Claudia’s very atoms detach and drift away from her, up into the warm air.Now Claudia slept almost all the time. She lay still in her hospital bed, supported by pillows so that she wouldn’t choke on her saliva, eyes closed or, sometimes, eyes open, but so glazed and gazing into a far distance that she was unaware of Polly in the room with her.Perhaps three times a day, Claudia wou...ld awaken. During these lucid moments, Polly would hold a cup of tepid tea with a straw to the older woman’s mouth. Claudia would drink, then she would say, primly, “Thank you.”“Are you comfortable?” Polly would ask.“I am.”“Could I get you anything?”“Turn off the television. It distracts me.”“Of course.” But how curious, Polly thought. The television distracts her? From what? Was dying like taking a kind of test, needing one’s full concentration? Was Claudia drifting in her memories, were they as vivid as headlights of passing cars against the windows?Now when the hospice worker arrived, Polly was free to leave for the entire hour, because Claudia wouldn’t know she was gone.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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