A wanton anaesthetist in stuck in a crushing love triangle circle. Who does she choose? Who would you choose?
Here is a snippet for you to enjoy.
A week into Victoria's visit, not one word had been exchanged between Eric and herself.
She was a still raw about the stunt her sister pulled. She still disliked her sister’s husband. She still asserted that she was having the most distasteful time of her life.
That was until she found her sister slaving in the kitchen and sweating into, erhm… something she was cooking, more like trying to cook.
“Hey, Bertha. What are you doing?” Victoria asked cautiously.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Why, is Sam sick?”
“No, this is not soup.” Bertha was as red in the face as any fair coloured black gal could be.
“Obviously. But is it some sort of medicine?” Victoria asked with her most innocent smile.
After all, it did smell like one of the bitter brew of herbs their mother forced them to drink when they were younger.
However.did.they.survive.all.those.years.of.poisoning?
"Argh!" Bertha hurled the ladle at Victoria with all her might, she aimed for Victoria's head. She missed narrowly. Her eyes suddenly grew round and she drew her trembling hands to her mouth.
Surely, I couldn’t have such an effect on my sister! Victoria thought.
“What is wrong?” Victoria asked, surprised by her sister’s reaction to her slight taunt. She approached Bertha slowly. Bertha looked like she could still pour the concoction into Victoria’s face if she dared take one wrong move.
Then in one swift yet gracious move-one you can trust only Bertha to pull this off flawlessly- her sister dumped herself on the floor, cupped her face then started to heave with desperate sobs; the kind Victoria had never heard from her sister.
“Bertha!” Victoria quickly rushed to her side and threw her arms around her sister. Victoria who only thought she was only bone and thickness knew better in that instance. The shear sadness and grieve with which Bertha sobbed cut right into her sister's heart. Before long, they were both weeping like lost kids.
Suddenly, the pain of losing her own patient suddenly hit Victoria like a hammer. Something that had never happened to her before. She had lost many patients but this one... this one was something else. It didn’t take long for her sobs to grow louder than her sister's. In the end, she was the one in need of consoling.
They finally settled on the sofa in the hall, Victoria’s head on Bertha’s lap and Bertha soothing Victoria’s hair.
“Why were you crying?” Bertha asked.
“You started first. So let’s hear your reason first.” Victoria said.
Bertha’s lips started trembling a sob was about to break out again.
“He has been sleeping with the cook.” Bertha blurted.
Victoria sat up slowly.
“What?!”
You can also follow me on my blog for more original stories and poetry.
You know how we do it! More stories and everything lit-erature.
Love,
Rony.