Happiness. It's relative.
Posted on August 17, 2021 by Jan Wilberg

The woman in the next bed talked with her eyes open but she wasn’t awake. In the afternoons, the nurse helped her sit in a chair, tucking a hand-stitched blanket brought from home around her knees and pulling her hands together in a peaceful pose.
Then, her husband came to visit. He knelt in front of her chair, held her knotted hands, and told her how their children missed their mother.
She looked at the wall behind his head. Then, he kissed her blonde head and left.
After days of this, I went home where my own husband was waiting.
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Photo by Hush Naidoo Jade Photography on Unsplash
Category: 100 Word Stories, Writing

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What happens here on Red's Wrap is all over the map. There is no single theme, no overarching gripe, no malady of my own or others that dominates. I write about what seems important or interesting at the moment and what aims me toward hope. I write stories, essays, poems - whatever fits the day and the mood. Nothing stays the same, here or anywhere. That's a good thing. Happiness. It's relative.
(c) Janice Wilberg and Red’s Wrap (2010-2026). Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Janice (Jan) Wilberg and Red’s Wrap with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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Wow. That’s a story.
Having had more than 30 general anesthetics and more hospital visits than I can remember, this explodes with meaning for me. XxX