Lydia

A paramedic is powerless at the scene of an overdose.

 

     A deputy stood in the hall and shook his head when Ethan approached. Ethan scowled, reminded himself that he was professional, and prepared mentally to witness something horrific. He dropped the medical bag and stepped around the officer, stepped around pills scattered on the bathroom floor.

 

     A body was wedged prone between the tub and toilet. With a gloved hand, Ethan lifted a nest of hair and studied the woman. Blood had drained from her back and settled into her face with gravity, leaving her skin a ghoulish contrast of pasty white and dark purple. Lividity.

 

     There was nothing for Ethan to do here. He understood that, in her own way of thinking, the woman had tried to help herself. He stared at the corpse, paralyzed by his own speculation.

 

     Maybe the honest soul searching that precedes a suicide is the purest form of existence. The pessimist is truly naked, stripped from bullshit layers of protection, presentation, and expectation. Who hasn’t felt the sting of regret and questioned whether life was worth living?

 

     Ethan wished he could insert himself into that last pause, the final doubting moment between resolution and execution, wished the woman had shared what intimate thoughts prompted her overdose.

 

     He would've reassured this stranger that he, too, felt life was pain. And perhaps together, spurred by the awareness of their bond, they would have found a way to cope. But who was he kidding? His pity did not exist until it was birthed by tragedy.

 

     “What a waste,” Ethan said, handing the empty bottle to the deputy.

 

     “The stiff, or the pills?”

 

     “Both.”

 

     Ethan left the bathroom and radioed for the coroner. Fortunately, Samantha was consoling the woman who found the body; Ethan was not in the mood to coddle. He took their unused equipment outside.

 

     Two squad cars and the ambulance idled in disarray, disturbing the twilight with red and blue beacons. Neighbors watched from their windows and doorways, a mob of individuals united in a hypnotic trance. They did not look away when Ethan made eye contact; they were not ashamed to be caught ogling. Ethan wondered if they were contemplating their own impermanence.

 

     Ask not for whom the siren wails, it wails for thee.

 

     Ethan threw the bag at the shelf and slammed the side door. He rubbed his brow with his palms, fighting back waves of disorientation. Stoic, curious faces pressed and receded against windows in bizarre distortions of colored lights. Ethan stood in the center of a forlorn disco, surrounded by an audience of mannequins.

 

 

Author's Note

This is part of a larger work in progress.

Reviews

[Adam Chambers]

"leaving the skin...contrast of.... Lividity."
"paralyzed by his own speculation."
WOW! paragraph no. 4, the WHOLE THING, is unbelievable. Its not easy to inject such concise and profound philosophical thought into the first page (or any page, for that matter) of a mystery/suspense novel and make it work without coming off like a cheeseball. I read ALOT and I've seen many WIDELY READ authors try and completely fail. You have definitely succeeded here.
Then the next line is absolutely beautiful:
"Ethan wished he could insert himself into.... pause....between resolution and execution"
I think the first two sentences of the next para. may falter a little though, or maybe its just that they come after such a perfect sentence. Or maybe that they HAVE to be simple to not allow the poetry imbedded in your writing to take the prose and make it float away like a balloon... I don't know... But then the next line rescues that paragraph succinctly. "His pity.... birthed by tragedy."
This is f*****g Shakespeare in a goddam hard-boiled detective story, dude! You are able to find a really nice balance between the "duties and obligations" of telling the story-- the craft of plot, character, description, etc...-- and f*****g dead-on philosophy wrapped up in beautifully poetic phrases. That makes you GREAT, in my book. Its what the absolute best writers have, I think, that balance. Like high art in a "radio ready" package...
Dude, you better be published already, or there's not a bit of hope for me, let me tell you...
"Ask not for whom the siren wails..."
That's classic!
I love this man. Unfortunately can't finish right now, but will get back to it as soon as I can...
--Adam

[Skye Jules]

This is extremely well written. Vivid descriptions, and enxtoxicating hook. Marvelous job!

[Damian Alan Gray]

Is this the beginning of a book? I hope so. It was eloquently written with a tremendous amount of insight to human nature. The style reminded a bit of Dean R. Koontz', which in my opinion is pretty damned good writing.

[yinseriv]

This is a very compelling, well wrote piece. The details created the atmosphere. You led me with skill to an ending that was pretty darn close to perfect. I am glad AngelEyes featured this.

[Vincent]

I love this story. Sounds like it could be the beginning of a novel. Kept me hooked. The ending to me is kind of ambiguous, but whatever direction you were going at the end was excellent. I'm definitely gonna read more of your work if it avaliable