Last Rites - Sex Stories

Last Rites

... remembered the public health people. Any noise from him would let them know that he was inside the small suite, that he was conscious, and even that he was alive still. The confusion of his dilemma eroded a little more of his slowly deteriorating logic centres. A part of him wanted to answer the door out of curiosity, while another part wanted nothing more than to yell at the intruder to go away, irrespective of how futile such an exercise might be. A third possibility entered his mind, to ignore the demands in silence, his hopes being that whoever it was would give up and leave. But the continuous pounding only became more and more insistent, ceasing only when a key was inserted into the lock and turned. A middle-aged woman invaded his sanctuary, addressing him by name. “Mr. Shore? My name’s Lynn Askew. I’m here to make sure you’re alright, and to see if I can help you in any way.“ “I don’t need any help!” Rod snapped back. “Go away, and leave me alone!” He rolled over so that his back was to her, every joint in his body protesting the movements, even as he resumed a fetal position under the blankets of his bed. “I can’t do that, Mr. Shore,” she told him, her tone indicating that her decree was not open for discussion or debate, “but we do have to talk. Can you sit up for a minute and look at me, please? What I have to say is very important.” Rod struggled to roll over again, his joints protesting every movement and his atrophying muscles begrudging his brain’s commands. ...

... She saw him wince at the effort, understanding his situation better than he did himself. In that one moment, her clinical attitudes and training disappeared, as she connected to this lonely old man as a fellow human being. Her heart went out to him silently, as she found herself genuinely wishing that she could make his pain go away, knowing that it was impossible. He stared at her wordlessly, waiting for the next round of lectures and inquiries that would surely follow. “Mr. Shore, there’s no easy way to put this, so can I be blunt and straightforward?” the woman wanted to know. “Whatever” he grunted, his indifference saturating his reply. “Sir, I’ve been contacted by the public health authority. They’ve analysed your latest test results, and I’m here to discuss those results with you. You’ll have to make some choices, eventually. I’d like to be able to talk about those choices, and their consequences. We can start now, or I can come back tomorrow. But I’ll be back every day, until you understand the seriousness of the situation. Which is it, today, tomorrow, or for as long as it takes me to get the message across to you?” There was still a demanding tone to her voice, but laced with something that Rod hadn’t experienced for more years than he cared to remember. Compassion seemed to be as good a label as anything else. He became aware that this new intrusion wouldn’t cease unless he heard her out, but for once, he also didn’t feel threatened. The decision to listen to her ...