The d’Verse prompt is to write about a city at night and I’ve chosen to post a haibun about something that happened to my wife and I 31 years ago in December.
The apartment is mostly barren still. No lights or tree. Too poor and my girlfriend Diane too sick. It’s only been two weeks since the Addison’s diagnosis and immediate hospitalization from the endocrinologist’s office. Death was close then. I ask her what’s wrong. She feels light-headed. Drive me to the ER. She sits up and passes out. I call 911. The EMT’s arrive. She lays in bed talking. I hover and watch. I notice them exchange puzzled glances then panicked ones. Diane notices too. She asks them what is wrong. One blurts out, “Ma’am, I don’t how to say this, but you have no pulse and no blood pressure but you are talking to us!” Diane answers with typical snark that she’s obviously not dead. I ride in back of the ambulance. I have no way back home now. If she dies I want to be there. They find a pulse, it’s been nearly thirty minutes. She falls unconscious. Siren wailing, over the Q-Bridge, New Haven night skyline lit up for Christmas.
black harbor water
stars pivot magnetic north
snow still days away