Poor Bedside Manner
Eloise hadn't meant to stand there in the doorway and watch. But it was hard not to.
She had seen a lot of suffering and death in her short life. The facts of hospice care were stark and plain in her mind. She had learned to shut off her personal feelings, focused solely on making sure the patient was comfortable, if not comforted, in their final hours. But she had never seen anything quite like this.
The dying man in the bed was lost in reverie, his cracked lips moving silently as he spoke to people who weren't there. Around him strange energies swirled in the Force, echoes of the past, the present, the future. And at the center of it all was
Eugen Aker
, pulling the strings, lifting the veil. Was he showing this man, a complete stranger, what awaited him after death? Was it just a final vision of the past, meant to soothe the pain of passing? She didn't know.
The energies coalesced, then faded. The man in the bed's eyes glazed over, his lungs emptying as he breathed his last. Eloise was still standing in the doorway, a tray full of syringes and painkillers in her hands, glassy-eyed, her mouth tight and nostrils flared with suppressed tears.
"I..." she began, then faltered, swallowing the lump in her throat. "That was..." She couldn't find the words, but the look on her face said it all.
She had seen a lot of suffering and death in her short life. The facts of hospice care were stark and plain in her mind. She had learned to shut off her personal feelings, focused solely on making sure the patient was comfortable, if not comforted, in their final hours. But she had never seen anything quite like this.
The dying man in the bed was lost in reverie, his cracked lips moving silently as he spoke to people who weren't there. Around him strange energies swirled in the Force, echoes of the past, the present, the future. And at the center of it all was
The energies coalesced, then faded. The man in the bed's eyes glazed over, his lungs emptying as he breathed his last. Eloise was still standing in the doorway, a tray full of syringes and painkillers in her hands, glassy-eyed, her mouth tight and nostrils flared with suppressed tears.
"I..." she began, then faltered, swallowing the lump in her throat. "That was..." She couldn't find the words, but the look on her face said it all.