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[rotating-posts]This is barely half of it, but if someone who is honest about prose/editing could read it and tell me what you reckon, I’d be grateful!
“We are going to be late, again!” I mumbled the last part under my breath. He wouldn’t listen anyway, and I wasn’t about to waste my lung power on summoning a man who didn’t believe in time, or the quality of time.
“Don’t get yourself in a knot sweetie, I’ll be down in ten!” he shouted back from the top of the stairs. The program had started twenty minutes ago, in his honor, and he was going to be a half an hour late. Why they would honor a scientist, a species with no time constraints, was beyond me. The fact that he’d spent nearly five years simply hypothesizing on his new development was hint enough that he wasn’t going to show up ahead of schedule, or on time for this banquet.
“Dodge Jonathan Mayer, will you get yourself down here this instant! We are already 20 minutes late, and I am not going to be another twenty!” As his wife, it was time for me to place my foot down; and it worked. He came scurrying down the stairs, the tail of his tuxedo shirt flailing out behind him. I promptly tucked it in, fixed his tie; spit shined his hair and eyebrows and made a beeline for the door.
“Someday my leisure attitude for time is going to come in handy,” he quipped as we climbed into our car.
“Yes it will; at your funeral where you’ll be escorted to and from it.” He laughed at my joke and started the car. Now I wish I hadn’t made that joke. It wasn’t really even that amusing.
There were lights. Lots and lots of bright, swirling lights and for a moment they reminded me of Christmas. Then I remembered where I was and that warm feeling was chased away and replaced with a dread so severely placed in my gut I could barely stand it. I threw up all over the gurney, all over everything, and kept puking until I felt like my intestines were coming up next. Then I looked at the room I was in and saw Dodge, there on the bed a few feet away from me.
“Dodge, honey? Are you alright?” Silence. It didn’t even look like he was alive. He was pale, and his eyes were closed. The gripping dread returned and I screamed at the top of my lungs.
“What is it? What’s going on?” A plump small nurse came scurrying into the room, adjusting this, and fiddling with that.
“What’s incorrect with my husband? Why does he look like that?” Her eyes lowered, and she stepped back from my bed. Her silence was killing me. The knots in my stomach tightened and made my gut feel like steel.
“Your husband…he didn’t make it. We were waiting for you to wake up, to see what you would like done with his body…we couldn’t contact any of his kin.”
“His mother… mother died… when he was. When he was a baby…his mother, he doesn’t have… any family. I’m his family. What…” I looked over again at Dodge’s body. Why did he look so peaceful? As if he didn’t have a care in the world? He’d left me here, and he’d gone away. To some place where time didn’t matter. The joke I’d made when we were leaving the driveway slammed into my head at a million miles an hour. How could I make such a joke?
“Dodge, please!” I screamed. The nurse grabbed me with surprising force and pinned me to the bed. I gave up my fight and just cried. Wailed is more like it, an uncontrollable sobbing that was ripping through me like a hurricane. Dodge had been my life in view of the fact that high school. We’d been together so long, life without him was, or seemed to be, impracticable. Life without… No, it was to horrifying to imagine.
The nurse must have given me some sort of sedative, because the next thing I knew, it was daylight. The sun was huge up the room like a liquid, blinding me. I looked around and realized I must’ve been went because this room was so much smaller. This was a room for one. Just me… a room without Dodge.
“Nikki? Hey babe, how ya feeling?” that familiar deep voice suddenly woke me up out of my somber thoughts. My best friend, Jam, sat next to my bed. He place his hand on my forehead.
“Like I was hit my thirty semi’s, simultaneously.” He smiled briefly, but then his smile promptly turned into a frown. He knew.
“He can’t be gone Jam, he just can’t. It’s Dodge. We’ve been together in view of the fact that 9th grade. I don’t want to believe this…I won’t.” Without warning, tears spilled once again from my tired eyes.
“C’mere,” Jam said soothingly. I fell asleep there, against the only other man I’d ever trusted besides Dodge. My Dodge. Gone.
I went home that day, because that sickbay was going to send me to the nut house. They watched me, constantly, as if they thought I was going to off for myself. As much as I would’ve liked to, Dodge didn’t deserve that. I tried to remember
If you’d like to read the rest, email me at kirbyprincess@yahoo.com. 
thanks so much long-winded!!! your adivice really helps! i was plotting on gathering everything i have and going through the entire book so far again and adding/taking away, enhancing everything. this really isn’t even half.. its like.. a third, they cut off a bunch of it, lol.
