Without further ado, I present the first part of my larger story. There's no title yet, but suggestions are welcome. Also, any criticism (positive or not) would be appreciated . . .

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William Carroll cried softly as he held his wife's hand. Her eyes were closed, and she lay listless on the hospital bed. The only sound in the room, other than his sobbing, was the beeping of the machinery behind his wife, Susan. He squeezed her hand, then stood and wiped his right arm across his eyes. As he strode into the hall towards the coffee machine, the edge of his sleeve was wet from the tears. His back was hunched, and his gait was unsteady and heavy, as if his grief had caused him to forget even how to walk normally.

Carroll poured himself a cup of black coffee, and held it for a moment in his hand, as he stared down the hall. Then, as if shaken, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip. The hot liquid flowed over his lips and teeth, and Carroll grimaced fro the heat and the slightly burnt taste. He turned back towards his wife's room, the cup of coffee in hand, and then stopped. He looked to the darkened doorframe, but couldn't continue on. As if there were long tongues of flame or great gnashing teeth awaiting him just inside that doorway, Carroll found his legs unable to move forward. Instead, he lowered himself into the row of plastic chairs against the far wall of the hallway. He sat with his shoulders slumped down, and felt all his strength slip from his body. A nurse walked past him and into Susan's room, clipboard in hand; he almost didn't notice her pass by.

Carroll slipped into a sort of half-sleep sitting in the uncomfortable chair. He could see his wife before the transfusions, looking angelic in a yellow sundress. It felt like that first summer in California, a lifetime ago. They were on a hillside, sitting on a blanket. The flowers and grass smelled so fresh, and he could almost taste life in the air. He remembered being here before . . . It was just after she had finished grad school. He saw himself leaning in to kiss his wife, gently cradling her as he pulled himself closer. He could remember the taste of her lips from that first time, and it seemed super real in the dream. He felt love for her like he never had before. It was a combination of his initial feelings for her, the growing love that had developed over the years, and even the melancholy love he felt now. It flowed through him, and he gripped her tighter to his chest, holding their embrace as long as he could. In the back of his mind, he heard an odd beeping noise. It began as a n intermittent beep, and then a steady tone. Carroll turned in the dream, trying to find the sound, but couldn't. He turned back and she was gone. Suddenly, he placed the noise.

Carroll woke with a start, and almost fell from his chair. As the sleep left his body, he felt fear creep into his heart. He rose and moved to the doorway, already seeing the nurses and doctors moving frantically in the room. He cleared the door, and his heart sank. The doctor performed chest compressions. The nurse leaned over his wife's face, breathing for her. They brought out the paddles, and shocked her. They did it once, twice, and then again a third time. Carroll felt his legs give out as they pulled away from his wife. He dropped the cup of coffee, spilling the contents on himself and the floor. He felt his head smack into the wall behind him, and just before Carroll passed out he found himself crying. He couldn't tell whether the tears were for his wife or from his own pain, and that made him truly sad.

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Well, there it is. Let me know what you think. Or not. I'll post more in a few days . . .