One outstretched arm resting against the architrave supported him as he puffed. Air rushed in and out of his lungs. Rivulets of sweat trickled down the middle of his back and down the centre of his chest. Patches of sweat spread on his singlet. He knocked rapidly on the door.
Come on Edith where are you?
The door slowly opened.
“Yes?” The eyes belonging to the deep voice inspected Sync. The straight face and down-turned mouth matched the sad eyes.
“Is Edith there?” Sync began to breath normally.
“No, she isn’t,” the man answered dully. “Sadly she had a heart attack last night and is in intensive care. She’s not expected to recover,” he said bluntly.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I live next door. Synchro Reed,” he said extending his right hand.
“David Buchanan,” he said clasping the offered hand. “I’m Edith’s son. There’s an envelope on the table with your name on it. Just a moment.” He disappeared along the hall and returned with envelope in hand.
“I called in to see her the day before yesterday. She seemed fine. What happened?”
“She felt unwell and phoned me to come over. When I got here she was unconscious. The ambulance came quickly.” David’s bottom lip quivered.
“Is it okay if I go to see her?”
David nodded. He couldn’t hold back the tears.
“You’d better hurry.”
By Diane L Wood
My Bio: http://write-intention.com/Diane_L_Wood.html