In the Passing Eye
By Matthew F. Cooper
Marty put her head out the bathroom door, blinking. Sand was piled against the baseboard and the air was still. Her husband, Jim, was sitting in the empty bathtub. His wheelchair was folded up in the closet at the end of the hall.
“Can you get my chair?” he asked.
“Yes,” Marty said, “Hold on.”
©2007 Matt Cooper. All rights reserved.
