A Little Fiction?

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A Little Fiction?

Harry awoke from his stupor, realizing he had not yet left. Patrice and the kids stood by his bedside, all four crying, except for Jack, the youngest, who had not spoken since his dad was bitten. It was Fathers’ Day.

The doctors made it clear from the beginning that only three or four people of record had ever survived rabies without timely treatment. The vaccine had been administered much too late.
Harry looked passed his family. He thought only of the good times he experienced. Marriage, births, family dinners, and parties flashed quickly through his blurred mental visions. He saw no vacations, but noticed how dedicated he had been, though to what he was unsure.

The good man and loyal father peered through the window pane a little more clearly than he had in three days, wondering if he was experiencing his final sunrise. His focus was abruptly interrupted, as the doctor burst into the hospital room, but Harry did not see the collateral commotion of a code red.

The doctor confirmed the test results, as Patrice collapsed into her chair, clutching their one-year old. “Unbelievable!” he shouted. "You are the first in the state to beat this with treatment so late. You will make a complete recovery.”

Even before he could utter a word or glance at his family, Harry pondered the remainder of his life. He did have a choice.

 
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Comments

  1. I can't tell if this is the beginning of the story or the middle of it, but either way, I'd enjoy reading more, for sure.

    And in life... we always have a choice. :)

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  2. Phoenix: Hopefully, it is a beginning. It is something for all of us to ponder.

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  3. I have always been fascinated by the NDEs and am to this day convinced there is something there. Hence, I find your text absolutely brilliant. More so, since you somehow managed to make think of Scrooge as well. :D
    This would be a perfect opening for a captivating story.

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  4. Ritva: I agree. I think there might be something there. The story content was sent to me by another blogger, and I just re-wrote it as a reminder to people of those things important in life, like the gift of life itself.

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  5. Lovely tale. Yes, life offers choices; death, none. It's up to us which way to go bitten by a animal or not.

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  6. Linda: Very Hemingwayan, but that's about it.

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  7. I tried to leave a comment earlier this week but technology got the best of me. I was thinking of the concept, that we get to choose, that being boxed in is self imposed illusion, just before reading your poignant story.

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  8. Fascinating as always. Hope you will continue the story.

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  9. Makes me think of the idea that 'nobody ever laments that they wish they would have worked more'...

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