Here you go. :)
Late
A man is walking down a busy street…it is very hot, he is sweating like mad, and he feels ill…very ill.
He wipes his forehead, and the feel of his clammy and moist hand makes him nearly hurl. Looking at the back of his hand, he notices flecks of skin, some with pale red stains…it came from his forehead.
In fact, his entire body seems very dry, and skin is flaking off…his hair seems to release itself from his scalp merely by running his hand through it.
I’m late…
In his other hand, he clutches a bottle of water. He had just purchased it from a convenience store. He was dying of thirst, and used up the last of his change to get the bottle…the clerk seemed horrified when he saw the man. He offered to call an ambulance, and get him to the hospital.
But the man dismissed it, saying he was fine, although his voice, trembling and seemingly out of breath betrayed this…now, holding himself up with the use of a telephone booth, he tried to take another swig of the water.
But it was not working…despite the intense heat and his savage thirst, the water simply refused to go down. It made him terribly sick, and it involuntarily sprayed out of his mouth like vomit, falling over his dirty work shirt and tie.
I’m late…gotta call…
At this, people walking by looked at him, frightened, disgusted…some offered help but he pushes them away.
Pressing 0 on the telephone, the man asks the operator to link him to his own phone number.
Gotta let Symbeline know I’ll be there…soon. I’m coming.
His wife was not at home. Received by her recorded voice, he felt panic and despair. He had to let her know that he was coming.
The man walks fast, despite feeling like crap…then he starts to run.
He is aching everywhere, he feels that his innards will explode, he feels a wetness in his underwear. Not pleasant. His knees are hurting him terribly, and he sweats…some flecks of skin gets in his eye, and it burns, it is itching.
But he keeps running.
Fuck…I’m gonna fall apart…
Finally, destination.
The cathedral. He made it. Plenty of cars are parked everywhere, he knows that he is not too late, yet. Regaining his breath which only threatens to make him loose consciousness, he advances again in the heat, towards the cathedral doors.
As he enters, the heat is slightly diminished, but his eyes are now in utter pain, so much so that he can barely keep them open. The sunlight through the massive windows blind him, but he can see enough…everyone has turned towards him as he entered. The priest, apparently in the middle of a speech, has stopped. Looking at him.
I’m here…
He notices his wife. Her face is puffy and red…she is crying. Everyone looks, but nobody says anything to him. Nobody advances towards him.
He walks in the aisle, closer to the priest. He does not look back. Walks and walks.
Someone, an old man he thinks, closes the doors of the cathedral which he had not attended to after making his entrance.
“Must have been the wind!” informs the man closing the doors.
The people in the cathedral turn back towards the priest. With a small smile to the audience, he begins his speech anew.
Nobody pays any attention to the man.
But he made it.
As he nears the end of the aisle, he sees a great coffin, with the cover open.
He climbs in, lays within and puts his arms by his sides, closing his eyes.
I made it.
The end
The wife’s name is actually Lisa, not Symbeline. XD
