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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: General Interest
- Published: 10/03/2024
Saturday Night
Born 1929, M, from Roseville/CA, United States2024SatNt (Approx. 350 wds.)
Saturday Night
It was a Saturday night. Paul Lerner, a retiree and now a widower, sat in his living room chair. The screen on the TV in front of him was black. Paul and his wife Sally used to watch television every night, mostly shows that she liked. He didn’t mind watching shows that he considered syrupy because it was something they did together. Now he rarely watched TV besides sports; it was too painful.
Paul, who was a writer (he did a regular column for his retirement community’s paper)
had written a little story he called “Night was the Worst Time.” It was true, he thought. He could keep humself occupied most of the day but at night when there was nothing more to do there was no escaping it---he was an old guy in an empty house and it was awful. There was no other word for it unless it was “terrible.” Well, tomorrow was Sunday and the football games would be on. That would get him through most of the day.
Paul pulled himself out of his chair, something getting increasingly hard to do. He went into the kitchen and rinsed off some dishes he’d used and put them away. He did his bathroom business and got into bed. Another day without falling. He supposed that was a small victory. Why, on top of everything else when you got old, did your balance go off.
At some point during their long marriage, Paul and Sally had gotten into the habit of kissing each other every night before going to sleep. Then, when Paul got too old for him to comfortably roll over on his side they began to hold hands every night. Now, every so often Paul would wake up during the night and reach over to hold Sally’s hand. He was a writer and you’d think his imagination was good enough so that he could believe she was there but it wasn’t the same as her physical presence. After a while he’d give up. He’d usually cry a little; he couldn’t help it. Eventually he’d fall back to sleep.
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Saturday Night(Martin Green)
2024SatNt (Approx. 350 wds.)
Saturday Night
It was a Saturday night. Paul Lerner, a retiree and now a widower, sat in his living room chair. The screen on the TV in front of him was black. Paul and his wife Sally used to watch television every night, mostly shows that she liked. He didn’t mind watching shows that he considered syrupy because it was something they did together. Now he rarely watched TV besides sports; it was too painful.
Paul, who was a writer (he did a regular column for his retirement community’s paper)
had written a little story he called “Night was the Worst Time.” It was true, he thought. He could keep humself occupied most of the day but at night when there was nothing more to do there was no escaping it---he was an old guy in an empty house and it was awful. There was no other word for it unless it was “terrible.” Well, tomorrow was Sunday and the football games would be on. That would get him through most of the day.
Paul pulled himself out of his chair, something getting increasingly hard to do. He went into the kitchen and rinsed off some dishes he’d used and put them away. He did his bathroom business and got into bed. Another day without falling. He supposed that was a small victory. Why, on top of everything else when you got old, did your balance go off.
At some point during their long marriage, Paul and Sally had gotten into the habit of kissing each other every night before going to sleep. Then, when Paul got too old for him to comfortably roll over on his side they began to hold hands every night. Now, every so often Paul would wake up during the night and reach over to hold Sally’s hand. He was a writer and you’d think his imagination was good enough so that he could believe she was there but it wasn’t the same as her physical presence. After a while he’d give up. He’d usually cry a little; he couldn’t help it. Eventually he’d fall back to sleep.
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Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
10/08/2024Sad but a senitimental story. So real you can feel the pain. Loss is never easy and comes to all of us in time. Well done Martin.
Blessings, Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Joel Kiula
10/04/2024Always happy to read your stories. Memories and imaginations carry us through life.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Denise Arnault
10/04/2024I'm always immersed in your stories. Your perspective on aging and loss is hard earned, I expect. Since I'm getting older too (74) I always think how I will feel when it's my turn. Keep the stories coming!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/03/2024Martin,
This story is enacted in real life, over and over again. It is one of the many things in life that are truly "unfair." Imagination and memory can only carry you so far...in keeping up the will to live.
Smiles, Kevin
COMMENTS (6)