The Trike Returns:
Ring
Gideon Piers Alexander Smith
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Until Death Do Us Part
There is something strange about sanitariums: something
antiseptic, yet unclean. The white walls feel gray, like the
darkness of the occupant's minds has leaked out and permeated the
paints very pores. I hate coming here.
Julia sits in the corner, as usual, revolving her
wedding band between thumb and finger. They let her have it now. I
guess they gave up. "Your sister is doing well." The passing nurse's
definition of 'well' must be different to mine.
"Julia. Let's go out into the garden...".
"...Julia!"
"When I've reached the end."
"Julia, it's a ring. You can turn it forever and
you'll never reach the end." She ignores me, of course, and keeps
manically turning.
Suddenly her face contorts as she locks onto my words
and spits, "Yes, forever, that's what this ring was for, he
said forever..." and she re-doubles her efforts.
We've played this game for five years without change.
Eventually she will put down the ring, telling me she has found the
end, but the next week she will be back here, turning it, looking for
the end again.
Sometimes I look at the ring to see if it does have an
end. Sometimes I can see it.
~Gideon Piers Alexander Smith
The author is a British transplant in the American
Midwest. He has published non-fiction and fiction in a variety of
media including Science, The Chelsea Rag and Doorknobs and
Bodypaint. Email.
© 2002 by Gideon Piers Alexander Smith. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated August 31, 2002.