Sprinkles Fall

It flashed. In the moment, she was swept up in the emotion. She took a glance around from the paper cup in her left, pills leaning against each other, to the needle in her right, to the head of the bed.

He sat peering expectantly at her, waiting for her to administer his medication. She blinked back tears.

The flag was signed, mementos of the blessings she had encountered, asking her associates to share in her appreciation. It hung on the wall: a blaze of red and white with fine black scribbles inscribed lightly to the fabric like a fine network of spiderwebs laced together.

She knelt at his feet as he sat on the edge of the bed: she pulled back his socks, exposing his pale and wriggling toes. She blinked back tears.

She stood at his side, holding the open container for the dentures, waiting as he rinsed them under the tap. She blinked back tears.

She dropped the sealed envelope onto the table. She blinked back tears.

Here was a gentleman who had trusted her, believed in her, counted on her. She had gone from feeling useless to needed; an unknown feeling that gave her wings so that she may learn to fly herself rather than wait for others to first begin.

He was real and genuine. She was going to miss the kindness he had unconsciously shown. The randomly given smiles that perhaps required a miniature congratulation.

Why the tears?