Descending Road - GOODBYES AND PAIN by Dana W. Paxson

GOODBYES AND PAIN

2416 CE

Miriam blinked and swatted at a large and persistent fly buzzing by her left ear. The New Zealand ecosystem, like so many, was overcome by an insect plague this year, and her parents were still waiting to get the pheromone traps being issued. The usual shortages.

Images, sounds, feelings of the past few months strobed through her in a flickering madness. Her parents, in their sixties, stood small and thin in their grimy apartment doorway in Wellington, arm in arm, as she and Allan prepared to leave for the last time.

“Mom, we have to catch the Quito shuttle. We’re late.”

“I just don’t understand, Mimi,” her mother said in a soft shaking voice. “Can’t you find some other way besides–“

“Annette,” her husband said, “Annette, she’s tried to explain all that. It’s what she wants. What they want.” He glared briefly at Allan, then turned to his wife, as much seeking comfort as offering it. Then he raised his face to Miriam and Allan, and tears were tracking down into his mustache. “Come here, you two, give us a hug.”

They made a ring of arms and clutched at each other one last desperate time, and Allan‘s comm chimed. He broke free to answer, and Miriam‘s parents closed the ring again with her. “Yes, yes, we’re coming down right now,” she heard Allan say. “Come, Miriam.” His hand stroked her arm.

Her mother’s sobs echoed behind her as she and Allan entered the stairwell. She knew, and would remember forever, how her father would sit alone looking out the window into the permanent brown haze, his right hand stroking his knee, trying to comfort himself, not letting her mother know the depth of his pain.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	GOODBYES AND PAIN 2416 CE Miriam blinked and swatted at a large and persistent fly buzzing by her left ear. The New Zealand ecosystem, like so many, was overcome by an insect plague this year, and her parents were still waiting to get the pheromone traps being issued. The usual shortages. Images, sounds, feelings of the past few months strobed through her in a flickering madness. Her parents, in their sixties, stood small and thin in their grimy apartment doorway in Wellington, arm in arm, as she and Allan prepared to leave for the last time. “Mom, we have to catch the Quito shuttle. We’re late.” “I just don’t understand, Mimi,” her mother said in a soft shaking voice. “Can’t you find some other way besides–“ “Annette,” her husband said, “Annette, she’s tried to explain all that. It’s what she wants. What they want.” He glared briefly at Allan, then turned to his wife, as much seeking comfort as offering it. Then he raised his face to Miriam and Allan, and tears were tracking down into his mustache. “Come here, you two, give us a hug.” They made a ring of arms and clutched at each other one last desperate time, and Allan‘s comm chimed. He broke free to answer, and Miriam‘s parents closed the ring again with her. “Yes, yes, we’re coming down right now,” she heard Allan say. “Come, Miriam.” His hand stroked her arm. Her mother’s sobs echoed behind her as she and Allan entered the stairwell. She knew, and would remember forever, how her father would sit alone looking out the window into the permanent brown haze, his right hand stroking his knee, trying to comfort himself, not letting her mother know the depth of his pain.