Battlefield
She watched it fall in waves gracefully down to the floor. She’d always been told that it was her best feature, thick and luxurious with a single streak of white. It was natural, she insisted. A reminder of her busy life with four children. That streak was a trophy, the spoils of battle on a field of teenaged angst where more than once she’d had to pick her hill to die on.
That battlefield had changed over the years. Now she was waging a war upon her own body as the chemo worked its gruesome magic. Her life was a whirlwind of doctor’s check-ups, follow-ups and throwing up. Now those very same teenagers were riding into battle alongside her, lances raised and armor ready to fight off the latest onslaught of her disease.
Breast cancer. A large tumor that had grown in the single year since her last exam. She’d lived the past months in suspended animation, going through the motions as they rallied around her. She worked at an elementary school, the kids all making get-well cards, wishing her well as the first treatments began.
That battlefield had changed over the years. Now she was waging a war upon her own body as the chemo worked its gruesome magic. Her life was a whirlwind of doctor’s check-ups, follow-ups and throwing up. Now those very same teenagers were riding into battle alongside her, lances raised and armor ready to fight off the latest onslaught of her disease.
Breast cancer. A large tumor that had grown in the single year since her last exam. She’d lived the past months in suspended animation, going through the motions as they rallied around her. She worked at an elementary school, the kids all making get-well cards, wishing her well as the first treatments began.
She watched the white streak finally float by, the remnants of her once prized mane waiting to be swept away. She was Joan of Arc at last, sword held high, her army raised behind her. She would not die on this hill, not today.
Artwork: Joan of Arc by Ngan Nguyen
Battle field has been conveyed by the lady while she was sitting in the café that has been made for the individuals to share their thoughts and ideas through the essay writing services reviews. Respected lady has been telling all other people about her experiences of fighting with the diseases and different ailments that has been creating difficulties for her life.
ReplyDeleteHello! Not sure exactly what the comment above means? I wrote this story in honor of a friend and coworker of mine who is fighting a very brave battle. Thanks for reading!
ReplyDeleteCould I offer a slightly less surreal response? I thought the body as battlefield metaphor was well sustained and original. I found the piece moving.
ReplyDeleteHAHA I loved the exchange of comments above. Was about to delete the first comment which is clearly spam, but was so amused by your response, James, that I decided to leave it. Thanks for bringing a touch of humour and sanity to the bizarre parallel unreality that is the internet... A very moving piece, A. Elizabeth, I quite agree with James.
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