literature

Last word

„I have the last word“,
„Do not always talk back to me“,
„Who laughs last, laughs best“.

The damn last word,
incomprehensible, which is why it is so special.
Nevertheless, I would like to have it. My statement counts, everything that comes afterward
is just sound and smoke. The last, very last word.
Mine.

Talking back, not only an issue with kids.
At least they are still very unvarnished, honest.
When we grow older, it comes less like “out of a gun”, but
more „behind the back of the other, as soon as he left the room, we get our knife ready“.
No objection! Absolutely none at all!

The last laugh, this best, most beautiful laugh.
Beaming with joy, looking for revenge. Is this
but clearly the reason for our laughter: the one who fooled us first,
is the one being fooled in the end. So much fun! Simply the very best, last laugh.

How about first words then?
The first step in every conversation.
Not important, because it is the first and not the last word?

What to do if the talking back is: „but of course, I love you!“
The assurance to our beloved, that our feelings have not changed.
They are not going to change. No matter the crazy thoughts our partner has for a second.

How good would be the first and last laugh, if no one laughs about on another or that successful revenge? Wouldn’t that be a reason to laugh first, last and in between?

Acrylic on paper, 45×60 cms,©JJBUETTNER

 

Trauma

When Hendrik drove his car into the driveway that evening, he wondered if anyone, in human history, had ever experienced a worse day. The answer that had certainly been so obvious, but obviously not to find Hendrik on his way home. Not only was it bad, it had been a dreadful day. It also seemed to last ten times as long as any other terrible day before, in the history of bad days.

Hendrik was an assistant doctor at the city hospital and today, on November 14th, 2017, one accident chased the next. The emergency room had been crowded for weeks. Nurses ran around wildly, to assist the nearest assistant doc, wondering who the primary professional was in fact. Bunny was different. Hendrik remembered seeing her name on the board for the first time in the hallway and imaged a blond call girl with rabbit ears. In fact, she was blond but not the „doll“-type, rather the athletic type. For sure, she was exactly Hendrik’s type. She hurried down the hallway like an angel, blinking sweetly at him as he looked up from the patient file.
A smile crossed his face and the moment passed as quickly as he had come.

„A horrible accident in the city center,“ roared a nurse who had just smashed the phone down. „A train has derailed, hundreds are injured and certainly half of them are on their way to us, get ready colleagues,“ roared the chief Dr. Lanz energetically. Exactly from the moment in which the emergency doors of the emergency room had opened and the first injured were pushed in by the paramedics, time seemed to stand still. The minutes crawled by in slow motion.

The success rate of treatments was on a 30/70 ratio. Unfortunately, it was only 30%, for the survivors. Heavy skull fractures and internal injuries were the number one opponent on this game-day for Hendrik’s team.
Despair and helplessness floated in the air. Family members and friends of the injured cried in the waiting areas. Some prayed.
„We are not done, there are more. Go, and wait for the arrivals outside! “ Dr. Lanz yelled right into the crowd of busy nurses and doctors. Hendrik took off and ran outside.
Feeling like a hero trapped in a bad horror movie, as the sliding doors opened and he stepped into the courtyard that was flooded by bright sunlight.
There she stood, Bunny. Bending over a patient who was obviously scared and in panic, she stroked the young woman’s arm as the paramedics began to move slowly towards the emergency room doors.

As slowly as the time crawled before, now fast, with willful force, the next moments lined up. With screeching tires, an ambulance drove into the yard, apparently out of control; he slammed into the group people, including Bunny.
Everything happened so fast, so loud, it shook the ground on which they stood.
Parts of the car flew through the air. Hendrik immediately ran to the car, or what was left of it, once it came to a stop.
His heart was beating loud, cold sweat running down his spine.
Could he still save her?
After reaching the accident site, Hendrik realized that the chances of saving them were less than small. For all involved.
From the driver’s seat of the second ambulance, which had caused the accident, he heard soft whining. He set out to help the driver first.
While caring for the injured man, he saw how more and more doctors arrived on the scene of the accident. There was no rush. A bad sign.

„We have to inform the families. Who’s going to do that? „Said the chief.
Hendrik was leaning against the door of the treatment room. Frozen. He could not move. It felt like he was paralyzed.
„They are all dead,“ he whispered to himself.
„Hendrik, go home. It was a horrible day. A long shift too, boy. „Dr. Lanz pulled him out of his trance.

A little later, Hendrik was sitting on the cold floor of his bathroom.
It was as if he wanted to punish himself for what he had been unable to do: to save them. All. Especially Bunny.