Florence's Final Journey22

shiny, bald head. “Better?” He got out his phone, made a couple of calls,
picked up the cash and helped Florence over to the depot waiting room.
The train was on time and was scheduled to depart in less than an hour.
“I got to go park the cab, my new friend. I'll be right back. Don't talk to
any strangers.” He hotfooted it down the stairs.
Florence wanted another glass of wine after buying a round trip ticket
and a funny thank you card for Gabby. This was turning out to be the
perfect last day on earth. She had the plan for taking her first steps into
eternity and hoped she could convince Gabby, if she needed to, that it
was a good one. She dug around for the pain pills and took a couple with
an iced mocha she purchased at the depot's coffee cart. She didn't ever
bitch about the pain for she had enjoyed almost perfect health for years.
She hadn't even had the flu or a cold for over a decade. She wasn't
depressed or down on the world. She loved it here but the doctors had all
been clear.
The pain would steadily increase and she would start losing abilities.
It's how it worked. No deals or treatment were available and she was
content with all she had experienced on this planet in her eight decades.
She was simply done like a good pitcher in baseball who had exceeded his
pitch count by a mile. It would probably be only months, a full year tops,
before she would have to leave her home and get some 24-hour care.
Gabby hustled back up the stairs and Florence handed him his ticket.
She stretched up and gave him a long kiss on the cheek. “You're an angel,
Mr. Wilson.”
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