It was Lana’s second week at the hospice center. Her loss of appetite didn’t help her choke down small bits of the ill-prepared special diet prescribed for her condition. The morphine drip eased the pain but it didn’t kill her craving for one more bowl of butter pecan ice cream.
Jimmy promised he’d bring some, but Jimmy promised a lot of things. Her hope dimmed and her stats waned. Maybe heaven had ice cream?
Then – there he was. Her Jimmy. Holding a paper sack in the doorway. His brightest smile.
“I told ya I’d bring it, mum.”
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the gracious host of Friday Fictioneers.