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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1087395-The-Other-Side-of-Alzeimers
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by Zolia Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1087395
Thoughts of a more bizzare nature.
THE OTHER SIDE OF ALZEIMERS

He lied to those in charge and removed her from the home. He knew what she wanted as they had discussed it many times whilst hiking and scrambling in the mountains.

It was an absolutely perfect day. Not too hot as the sun was only now about forty degrees above the horizon and by the time they reached the trailhead they would be in the shadow of the mountain.

He knew it would be slow going and that they would have to be extra careful not to slip and twist or break a limb; neither of them was as young and nimble as they used to be.

The disease had hit her very early on and now, at sixty two years of age, she had had enough. In a rare lucid moment a few days ago, she had let her friend of many years know what had to be done.

The climb itself was really not that strenuous compared with most they had done over the years. It was more of a steep trail interspersed with rocky parts that had to be scrambled over.
Normally it would take a little over an hour for a fit person to reach the top. Today it could take quite a while longer he realized, as his friend paused once again to marvel at how quickly they could see more and more of the desert stretching out below them.

About halfway they stopped for a snack. “The condemned woman’s last meal,” he joked rather morbidly and she stared at him for a long moment before smiling slightly and nodding.

One hour later they arrived at the edge of the cliff that fell seven hundred feet straight down to the river running snake like through vegetation that clung desperately to its banks, sucking up life giving moisture. The rest of the desert floor was flat and from this height, seemingly devoid of life. But they both knew better, having explored and come to know and love the great diversity of plant and animal inhabitants.

They rested on two convenient rocks and surveyed the scene. He wondered if she would loose her nerve or forget why she was here. As though reading his mind, she reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’s a beautiful day to go flying isn’t it?” she whispered, a twinkle in her eyes.
He could only nod silently as tears started from his eyes. She shook her head, “Don’t be sad. It will be amazing. Are you sure you won’t join me?”

For a moment he returned his gaze to the drop and imagined floating down, light as a feather and landing gently beside the cool water. Then visions of grandchildren and family responsibilities pushed this vision roughly aside and he shook his head ruefully.

“I should go then,” she murmured, a little sadly he thought. “I’ve been practicing you know. All I have to do is close my eyes…”

She walked to the edge and stood poised like a diver on the high board. A light breeze ruffled her thinning yet still mostly auburn, hair. And without a backward glance, as though he and the rest of the world were already forgotten, she pushed herself forward in an almost perfect swan dive.

He stepped gingerly to the edge to see her twisting and turning in the air, doing acrobatic maneuvers he would not have imagined possible at their age. No screams reached his ears, only the songs of the canyon birds and cries of a pair of ravens that soared above, watching with interest the human in flight.

Not wanting to see the end result of her last playful moment in this life, he walked away from the cliff and began his solitary journey down.

She felt graceful and full of energy as she watched the cliff face slowly slide by and the ground gently rise to greet her. She relaxed from her strenuous flying exercises and let her body lie comfortably supported on the air until it deposited her gently on the canyon floor.

Looking around she realized that this was home for now and that she was free and alive and that perhaps she may find others to play with and practice her new skills.
Flying was such great fun.
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