A Moment Like This

by

LEEN ELLE

This Novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by
Leen Elle

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this book may be used or reproduced, in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Dedicated to my Husband and
my Wonderful son -Jack-

"
Sir Knight,

I am writing to you as a damsel in distress. I've been warned not to plead for your coming, because others may hear but I am loathe to submit to their counsel. I do not know your name but I pray you come on the speed of the wings of the dawn.

I long for your presence beside mine, your fingers in my hair and your eyes gazing longingly into my own. I long to feel your touch on my skin and feel your hand hold mine, our soul pressed in the age old dance of love.

I fear you may have gotten lost for though I seek you with the depths of my heart I have not gazed upon your face. Or have I? Oh say it is true!

I've thought myself, once, to have gazed upon your shining armor but alas it was only a dream. My heart sighing I turned away from it and have wandered this lonesome path since, pining for you to come to my rescue.

I am held captive here, slave to my solitary ways and drowning in my tears. I wait for your arrival like a bird waits to sing of spring. Eagerly I watch from my prison, trapped within these walls of my own design.

My soul burns with the weigh of affections denied, my heart heavy with the ardor I long to give you. When you come know you shall be welcome. I shall fly into your arms like a bird freed from its cage for that is what I shall be. I shall herald you with cheekly kisses, wrapping you in my expectant hugs…"

The clacking subsided as her fingers paused on the black and white marked board below, a single digit moving to hover over the key marked 'Bk Sp'. However, she was not the fool to throw her dreams away. Placing her hand on the run away mouse she manipulated him to the illumination on the screen bearing the title 'save as draft'.

The screen flashed and she blinked staring at it blankly for a moment. Had her world sank so far? Was her entire life contained within this metal box that whirred with the complaint of overuse and this picture screen hardly the size of a small moving box? Had she really packed up her life into such a space unfit for any but a cat perch?

Reaching up as stroked the head of her only affectionate friend and allowed the creature to roll its head against hers. The being mewed plaintively and she shook her head rising slowly to stretch any muscles weary of lethargy. The gray and white blob arched her back and oozed off the monitor falling in step with a questioning mer beside her owner's feet.

"Come along, Alex," she urged, knowing the feline would follow, "let's go make some dinner, shall we?"

The cat hurried ahead to climb the stairs, pausing several from the top she send back her complaint pertaining to a lack of speed past her swishing tail.

"I'm coming. I'm coming," Promise responded in a small manner of exasperation as she began to ascend the stairs; Alex waited impatiently at the top, her tail candy caning from side to side.

Closing the basement door behind her, Promise moved into the kitchen where Alex had already scaled the heights of the fridge. Maple eyes peered down at her pitifully as she reached in and popped open a can of tuna. Shutting the door with her foot she heard Alex thump onto the counter; she announced her presence with another mew.

"Selfish little thing," Promise chided, affectionately scratching the ying yang forehead. As was usual Promise, once Alex was content, settled down to her meal and another one sided conversation. "Another night alone eh, Alex?"

The cat purred a euphoric tune; her face and mind were so far in her bowl she hadn't heard a word. Sighing, Promise poked at her tuna sandwich and looked at her clock. She still had quite a few hours until she had to be at work. Maybe she should do some cleaning, she thought without movement.

Her alarm scolded her out of bed at 2:30 that afternoon and while she had cleaned some time a pair of yellow monstrosities gripped her hands and threatened never to let go. Ripping them from her suffocating fingers she hurried to dress; donning an unfitted smock covered in smiling fish and unflattering pants of the periwinkle persuasion she prepared to go in for her shift.

Attaching her ID to the pocket of her coat she entered an antique smelling building and smiled. Swinging her stethoscope about her neck she proceeded to the desk greeting her patients as she walked by.

"How are you Mrs. Davers?"

"Eh?"

"I said 'how are you, Mrs. Davers?'" she projected in a caring and patient tone.

"Good, child. Bless you for asking," the old woman responded with a lopsided grin. What must have been beautiful features drooped, bowing to time. Patting the woman's hand she promised her to visit later.

As she worked at the desk later that day a wrinkled hand interrupted her line of sight. An alarm tattled loudly close by and Mr. Wilkins a person deaf and partial blind stood unsteadily before her.

"I've…I've come to get my…my medicine," his hands stuttered, shaking with each motion. Taking hold of him gently she lead him back to the chair and helped him sit down appeasing the whining alarm. Pressing her fingers against his palm she told him patiently the nurses were coming. He settled back against the chair back his head soon lulling to the side. A patient beside him awoke with a start to his snoring.

The nurses about the desk chatted about nothing and everything as they worked on paperwork and filed papers. After arranging for three patients' doctors visits she stretched and decided to wander the halls to check on her patients.

She visited Mrs. Davers again as she had promised and made sure that Mr. Wilkins was settled comfortably in his chair. After making sure none of her more dependent patients were in need of assistance she approached the last name on her roster, Mr. Hillogans.

When she entered his room he was dozing on his bed the TV playing in the background. His wife, Maddie, sat in the chair watching the tiny screen. Hearing the door open she located the remote and clicked it off.

"I just can't bear silence; when Martin falls asleep…" she began to explain then trailed off looked up at Promise. The baggy skin on her face rose a little with her smile. "Well I should probably go. I was just waiting to hear… to hear how he was doing."

"He's recovering well, Mrs. Hillogans." The small wife and woman sighed thankfully. "Thank goodness for this establishment. Why I don't know what I would have done if…"

"It was our pleasure," Promise assured her moving towards the door, "would you like me to walk you to the exit?"

"Oh no, no surely you have something you should be doing."

"At the moment I…" A particularly loud bell rang through the halls causing a commotion that could be heard all the way at the end of the hall where she stood holding the door.

"Mercy!"

"It's the new patient. What's her name?" a voice asked more quietly as frantic fingers began flipping through papers.

"Her name is Ms. Damian," a nurse called as Promise stopped beside the desk.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Ms. Damian rang for chest pain. Anne went to check on her," Laurel informed her in a speedy manner.

"Have the proper steps been taken to…" Laurel nodded.

"We contacted her family and she's being sent to the hospital as soon as she's ready."

The rest of the night was pleasantly dull as everyone recovered from the adrenaline high caused by Ms. Damian's chest pain. When Promise returned home she shed her uniform and dropped onto her unattractively semi-lumpy bed; her covers were still ruffled from her haste earlier.

She was staring at her ceiling when she overheard the first mew and it made her smile. Making short kissing noises she called her merring cat up beside her. Rubbing the feline behind the ear she sighed away her cares. When she stopped Alex protested but Promise refused to respond; she was exhausted. When Alex bit her shoulder Promise shoved her off but rose.

"Guess I'm a little hungry too," she admitted; nothing tasted quite the same as a true midnight snack.