The Last Hour...(or so)

For Helena's latest contest, poems and short stories describing one's last day on Earth

THE LAST HOUR…(or so)

 

“To tell you the truth, Irene, it wasn’t how I expected it to be, nope, not at all. I had this picture of the old “Time Tunnel” contraption, well, maybe not spinning and all, but Big…and Glowing…and OUT THERE!”

 

“Nossir, Jimmy, not like that a-tall. Not even like “The Light”, they always said to “Go Toward.” More like everything sort of fades out, or maybe all glows the same!”

 

Wellsir, that was either the last conversation I had, or the first, I can’t much tell the difference no more. I tell you, the months have been going by so fast, these days, sometimes I’m not sure if I’m here or there! I can kinda recollect some stern women in white, and giddy kiddies in pink, all the time fussing around me, but I never seen none of them eight-foot-tall, skinny, harp-strummin’ blondes I’d heard so much about, and thank God for that, ‘cause I sure do hate me some harp, but don’t ask me why!

 

Then, too, there was a heap of other folks who sort of looked familiar, some of the time. Mos’ times women, but other times men and kids. Sometimes worried, sometimes weeping, sometimes even angry. ANGRY, I tell you! As if I chose to be here, just to inconvenience them! But then, I reckon “angry” always was easier than “happy”, so it’s where you turn, when you don’t know WHAT to feel…

 

“Anywho, Irene, they was all just a flutterin’ around, making the darnedest hullaballoo, then, BOOM!, up YOU popped! You know, I never told you this enough, but I always did like that about you: You always knew right when my last nerve was fixin’ to pop, and there you suddenly were, smoothin’ stuff out, calmin’ stuff down.”

 

“Well, you old geezer, there won’t be no more of that! No more fires to put out, nor nerves to stress here. Now, hop up out of that bed, Mister"WHOA!, pull that damfool gown shut! I can see that new clothes are gonna have to be first on our list, before we go to meet the Boss. I think you’re gonna like Him, Jimmy!”

 

“”Yep, I reckon I might, long as he ain’t eight feet tall and playin’ no harp, I just might, at that!”

Reviews

[Helen Crutchett]

Wow! (First word that came to mind!) I will add 'brilliant to that....truly it was phenomenal to say the least. I read this at least three times and got a kick out of it just that little bit more each time. Bravo!! A great contest write for "Keeping the Dream Alive". Thank you!

[Muse]

lol, what a lovely yet disturbing image this put into my head. When I'm old......... if I still have my humor.......well lets just say God is good. ;)

[Sheila Kline]

Heartfelt, funny, and most of all just downright entertaining!! I love the story...you have my vote in the contest my friend!

[Marie Anzalone]

Yes.. this is you, true to the very end. Whatever collective demise we may all face; the ones with a personality truly their own leave the largest spaces in our lives when they leave. I reckon yours will be along the lines of some of our other finest humorist/ philosophers; a large space lit by light and filled with pounds and pounds of silly putty.

[angelina neves]

:) Lovely!

[KAREN]

It reminds me of someone remembering memories of long ago. It was written so beautiful. Rminded of two people back in the olden days.

[emmajoy]

I love this! It has the kind of reaction and acceptance of that long bit that comes next! The way you dance your words through happy rather than tragic, the sight of familiar faces - their reactions probably according to earthly character . Then, on to those final two stanzas with the almost abnormal - curled lips talking clothing when you thinking the maybe of physicality or not .. or what, old geezer!

Invention. insight and thought insurrection comes too easily for you!

[An owl on the moon]

This just smacked me down, in a good way! There is that dance over time.. and onto that timeless dance floor, and you've captured a sense of the heart, soul, and tongue so vividly. A joyful romp and I needed to romp like no one's business!