Karam Y., 12 , GSIS
Tick tock tick tock tick tick. Mrs.
Simonson stared balefully at the clock. Why did time seem to go by so quickly?
She sunk into a reverie. In the good old days........She saw herself as a child
of four or six giggling happily with her friends, pigtails flying in the wind.
She saw herself at the desk, her head drooped down trying to solve a hard
problem. She saw herself graduating. Diploma in hand, grinning proudly at her
parents. Then she saw dear Mr. Simonson's face, smiling at her. She saw her two
children reaching out for her and laughing when she scooped them both up.
After that came the years of sadness
and pain. She saw herself waving goodbye to her children. She saw herself
dressed in black weeping over the freshly dug grave in which her poor son lay.
She remembered the lonely times, with only Mr. Simonson for company, feeling so
lonely. She remembered the Christmas when she had sat on the porch waiting for
nearly a whole day for the daughter who never came. She remembered the recent
years. Returning to the house and finding Mr. Simonson sprawled on the floor,
barely breathing. She remembered the long hours she spent chewing her
fingernails and praying to God to spare her husband. All in vain.
Mrs. Simonson woke up with a sudden
jolt. A tear glistened on her cheek. She stared at the empty old house, half
expecting her family to pop out. She sighed and looked down at her hands. They
were swollen from arthritis and worn from many years of work. She stared into
the mirror and saw her countless wrinkles and snow white hair, her sad grey
eyes and her down-turned mouth. It would be her time soon, she thought.
