Sharp Stories and Twisted Fairly Tales

Tuesday, 21 July 2009
Sharp Story

Geraldines Story - by Duffield Harding

The days were longer when she was sober, so much longer. They went on and on. Too long, too alone. Geraldine had had shorter days. Fun days, she thought. Once. It helped pass the time, kept her sane, helped her along. If she wanted, she could lose a day, or two here or there. It didn’t matter. No one needed her. She thought. The plea for attention, the cry for help, didn’t help. No one heard. And to Geraldine, alone in her bed, all day, all night, it didn’t matter. The doctors, they helped her, gave her more pills, better ones, new ones, yellow ones, pink ones. They helped, she thought. Keep popping, don’t think about how many you have taken, you can take as many of the blue ones as you like, “whenever you feel the need” said the nurse. Medicated, Geraldine thought this sounded helpful. The pills were good, too good she thought, with a nice glass of vodka – oh sod it forget the glass, they go down very easily indeed. Just slide. Oh, poor Geraldine, she doesn’t seem to be very well, should we give her some different pills? Did she just say something? No, it sounded like a whisper – a no? I don’t think so, see if the red ones help, they’re stronger. Geraldine you see she did it to herself, it was her own fault. Geraldine took the first drink and the first pill they said. Geraldine really believed it would help. It was the only kind of help that there was for Geraldine. The pills fixed everything. Everything except Geraldine.
Posted by Twisted Fairly Tales at 07:37 0 comments
Labels: Sharp story, short stories, twisted tales