Ripples in Time

Rose is trapped inside a coma trying to rationalise her existence; outside her world ticks by. Which of three doors is the way out and which will leave her lost forever?

Excerpt Chapter 16

“Stop it,” she said to nobody in particular.

Maybe herself or loud enough for the tower to say something back. Talking to yourself, her mum used to say, was a sure sign of madness. Rose half smiled, does that apply to locked in and only having yourself to talk to?

Not true drifted back, the door of insanity has loads of cups to drink from.

Poe’s raven threatened to come back as her eyes touched the door again. The note was still clutched in her left hand.

Beyond the screen to the right somebody continued their vigil. Sporadic quivering gasps suggested another wielding tissues. Rose thought back to her Dad. The last fall he made at home. One of those do you ever know when you’ve done something for the final time moments?

She’d visited the hospital later that evening and sat by a machine that watched over the expiring signs of life. No resuscitation notice served. He was asleep when she arrived. Her mum was leaving a consulting room when their eyes met and a near invisible shake of the head said everything. He’s been awake for the last time, left the house for the last time, travelled in an ambulance, eaten, drunk, laughed, cried; all for the last time.

The gentle shake of her mum’s head said all that, and one more thing. The most important of all. Rose had not said goodbye knowing it was the final one. Time had run out so she just sat on the edge of a bed listening to a machine bleep with a box of tissues unable to say anything. She made a noise though, between the quiet stream of tears. The raggedy intake of breath not quite under control.

That was the sound outside now. The haunting elegy of someone’s lonely vigil waiting for the machines to alarm and flat-line. No resuscitation order.

Is that what’s in my notes too? Leave her to die, give up, can’t be bothered?


© G Jefferies and Fictionisfood, 2016. All rights reserved.


    • Sorry about the delay Gabe; busy weekend!! Many thanks for those kind words. Its a case of I’m told I can write a bit, but my own psyche is still nervous of putting things out there. I have another short excerpt going up next week from the same book; which is past proofing now and about to embark on a publishing search 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Ugh! The bookend of the, “raggedy intake of breath” she made with her dad now happening at her bedside… right in the feels, man! If this is a taste of the finished product, I can’t wait for it to be back from the proofreader! Oh, and hurry for finding something of yours I haven’t read yet! *grin*

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: Gratitude in Kindness | Fiction is Food

  3. So, she watched her dad die in a coma, now she’s in a coma??
    Very sad! not scary, except that it’s scary to think of being trapped inside your body and not able to communicate. Much more sad and poignant than scary. So, only a 1 on the scary scale.
    You know how to wrench the emotions, Gary!!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. It hurt my heart to read your beautiful words….just brilliantly done…the “logistics” (paragraphs, occasional typos) are easily over-looked…you write so beautifully and it reads as though from a woman’s perspective…very admirable…you have a real gift…thanks for sharing 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Crumbs I think that’s about the best thing you could say re from a woman’s perspective. The entire book is focussed on the world from her perspective. I am real worried about that. Agreed about the grammatical nuances. I am proofing and editing this book now so all the pieces in here are extracts from the raw first draft. I really ought to edit these posts as I reach them in the book. Bit sloppy that really. I think you just pursuaded me to blog more 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      • To my mind, nothing is lost because, being a lover of reading, I can see beyond the superficial stuff…that is where editing comes in…but, the beauty of your writing comes through effortlessly…I don’t know if everyone can get past it without making a point of pointing it out, but I hope that doesn’t dampen your confidence…you are very gifted, no doubt about it.:)

        Liked by 1 person

        • I’m actually ok with feedback good or bad. It’s unqualified feedback that mugs me. The ok you like it but why? Or ok you don’t but why? Those are the bits I can work with to improve things. I think that draws from my personal belief that it’s not for me to judge my writing but readers. Obviously I think it’s rubbish lol

          Liked by 1 person

            • Not brave at all…it’s an auto defence in case it really is rubbish !!! Although it a terrible position to hold during editing. It creates huge motivation issues which is why blog space is important. Feedback gives the catastrophising mind a reason to go on so thank you for your comments. I do it for readers too. I can’t just write for me. The readers keep me going. The two that gave read all of my book I owe a lot to because it takes time to do that. Wish I had more because close friends and family can skew feedback out of not wanting to hurt feelings. Also my genre is possibly not everyone’s taste !

              Liked by 1 person

  5. That’s heartbreaking. Not being able to say a proper goodbye. It’s the fate of so many of us. We lose the unloseable, and we can only sit vigil and then sit shiva, never able to say that one last proper ‘goodbye’.

    PS: might have been a bit easier to read had you used…. paragraphs. Still, it was very powerful.



    • Thanks Blue, a great deal of this book is autobiographical in content but, obviously, through the eyes of a female character. Makes it tough to decide if I’ve got that part right from my perspective. No doubt readers will bemoan it if I haven’t! Re paragraphs; will be fine tuning more once I return to the word processor. Still have about 70 pages to ponder through but hopefully done by Wednesday. Thanks for the feedback though. Massively appreciated 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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