The light above the of room 712 is lit red. An orderly has his hands on the door knob his eyes staring at the name tag beside the number. ‘Mrs J.E. Penwrite’. His chest expands to its maximum to take in a deep breath. Slowly he turns the knob and pushes the door open, his feet following the motion in to the room.
“IT IS ABOUT TIME, you showed up. I pressed the alarm a long time ago. Who are you? Never mind…”
-“What is the problem Mrs Penwrite, what can I do for you, today?”
“No need to be so snobbish kiddo, just help me find my pen. You know the one I am talking about right. The one I got from my son Walter… or was it my brother… Someone stole it and I have a great idea for a story so hurry.”
In front of the window in a wheelchair buy the table she sit ordering the staff around for most often her missing pen. She stares out over the houses with there red roofs. Her old knuckled finger tap impatiently and uneasy on a black piece of paper lying in front of her.
“FOUND IT yet? You know what pen I am talking about don’t you, it is the black and gold one my husband gave me… or maybe it was my fathers…”
-“I am looking Mrs. Penwrite. It is not in this room so I will check next door okay. You could use mine if it is really important.”
“I can’t write with an ordinary pen. No it has to be my favourite or else the story won’t come out right. You do know who I am don’t you…”
Her apartment in this nursing home is divided up in three rooms. A small living room with a table and some chairs for visitors and her television. Next to that she has bathroom and a bedroom. Mrs. Penwrite is very well known here by all the nurses and orderlies as one who once in a while misplaces her pen and has everyone look for it.
She sure knows how to keep the staff busy and everyone does hold their breathe when she has her usual moments she finds inspiration without a pen.
From the bedroom a shout out is heard. “Mrs. Penwrite, I found your pen. It was hiding under your pillow again, next to the photo from your night stand.”
“That is wonderful kiddo, thank you.” With a tremble in her bony hands she picks it up and pushes in the top. “This is it…”
The tip hits the paper and sits still with her head lowered over her wrist.
-“Are you okay Mrs Penwrite.”
“Such a precious gift Walter, Thank you darling. But I can’t remember what I was about to do… Maybe it comes back to me after a nap.”
-“I am sure you will write again Mrs. Penwrite. Let me help you.”
This is story born straight after reading a prompt at Tipsylit. I am happy to see her return with them as they do wake up my mind and add a little turmoil into the already existing chaos that is my writers universe. If one likes to join visit her by clicking her name. Voting is done by liking my comment there, though you are not obligated to do so. I enjoyed this write very much. I just hope you also liked the read.