Going Mad

“Whatcha doin?” I asked.

“Waiting for the train. I don’t know when it’s coming but I’ve been waiting a long time.” He replied.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“I’ve been working. I’m trying to get home.”

He was sitting in his recliner chair at home. The mirrors and glass doors have been covered up to hide the reflection of an old man he does not recognise and who frightens him. He slips through time periods of his life. Today he is much younger and still working.

About fluidicthought

Random posts and photographs of life, travel and stuff.
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6 Responses to Going Mad

  1. You got my interest, so finish the story

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Simple and too the point Kirsten. It so much like that having looked after people in care homes and my mother until she died. Interesting about Alzheimerโ€™s its only truly able to be diagnosed with a post-mortem and the cause still alludes even the best physician. My mum never knew me as l was when l was caring for her l was 14 and living in our home elsewhere when l was a child. And yet when she died it was as if God let her see me and amazingly she lived without medication for days and l gave her just water on a small foam mouth swab. ๐Ÿ™s For anyone who has to witness this happening to their loved ones Amen

    Liked by 1 person

    • Something is going to give in the end. Heart, lungs, kidney, liver, brain. Degeneration of the brain is so obvious. I can’t see if your liver is full of holes but but I can see a change in behaviours when your brain is swizz cheese. The sadist thing for me is to see the confusion in their eyes. And one day you wonder if they have totally disappeared. Vanished, wandering the archives of their mind. Hi Ian, thanks for the reblog. I hope you are well. ๐Ÿ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

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