Limbo NASIRA WATTS
She pressed the damp towel against grandmother’s face, the wetness of the fabric blending with the clamminess of the old woman’s withered visage. If her eyes were open the granddaughter could not tell, for they were housed beneath layers upon layers of wrinkles covered in a thin film of crust. They always looked like that, the eyes of those on the brink of death. But she was breathing, and as long as she did so, the granddaughter would remain. She was humming quietly to her when the Doctor came in. This did not cause her humming to stop nor her focus to shift from the women before her on the white sheet. Assuming this was a sign the young girl had not heard her presence, the Doctor closed the door to the small hospital room grandmother had been staying in for the past four months. The sound of the door slamming reverberated across the expanse of the too small room and still, the granddaughter remained unmoved. The Doctor noted that despite the girl’s small stature, she looked larger than life in the miniscule room. One final attempt to grab the attention of the young girl was made, by way of clearing throat. The Doctor elicited a guttural sound from within her neck, lips remaining pursed and stiff as a piece of chewy candy left uneaten for far too long. The Doctor, like the candy, seemed to have lost her chew, her sweetness, that much was clear as, when the granddaughter still remained unresponsive, she resorted to an abrupt and aggressive “Hello.” Unfazed by the womaen’s typical unfamiliarity with being ignored, the granddaughter responded with a similar greeting, however hers was much calmer in comparison.
agave review • 17
