Safe

“Good morning Mr. Alexsan….. um Anatoly” she said,

I wasn’t sure when she had entered the room,

I only knew that she was there;

finally;

I had thought of very little else

the entire night;

I imagined what she must look like,

I felt the touch of her fingers as she

checked my bandages;

it felt like electricity,

crackling and popping;

“how did you sleep?” she asked,

“I’m not sure that I did” I replied,

“well you must have slept some,

the overnight nurse wrote that

you were snoring very loudly

when she checked on you.” she chuckled,

we laughed together;

I had not laughed like that

since before the war,

with my wife,

that thought brought it

all back;

her death,

dying little girls,

Tukarov,

the brutality,

the savagery,

the gas,

the sounds of gasping,

the coughing,

the weeping,

the darkness;

“Anatoly, Anatoly,

it’s okay” she whispered,

holding me in her arms,

and for the first time,

in a very long time;

I felt safe.

.

.