. She waits at the foothills for her husband to come back. She’s dying….a painful death. Nothing could be done. The tickets… they were already booked….the coupe…a tiny room, just for themselves. The journey it has been heavenly….but now, she was in hell. Not the one burning with flames but the one chilling her bones and clogging her chest. She pukes but the relief lasts a few minutes. Then it’s back, with a vengeance.
There’s this local who has taken him up the mountain to look for a hotel. He asks her to join. She refuses…let my husband come days she. He swears and goes away. Her husband comes. He’s found a room..,it’s all the way up the hill. He doesn’t understand. Breathless..she slowly struggles up the hill.
On the bed, she’s coughing away..He is kind. He gives her a bucket to puke on.
They come with their beautiful shawls and sweaters. He wants to buy them for her. She cannot speak. Where do I find a doctor he says.
There must be a hospital but he doesn’t know where. They get a taxi. She is take for a ride. Up another mountain.The old doctor doesn’t talk. He gives her a jab. Her asthma’s gone