by caccy46

The slam of the steel door, the sound of the lock engaging was my reminder that I was now on the other side. I turned and put my face closer to the small square window of double glass panes encasing chicken wire and looked into his vacant, lifeless black eyes. Searching for a hint of a reaction, I knew he wasn't really seeing me. I watched him slowly turn towards the endless corridor. His shoulders, fallen forward, as if the weight of them were too much for his 6'2" body to bear. Stooped like this, I watched my 18 year old son, my first born, beautiful child shuffle away, showing barely enough strength to lift one foot in front of the other.


caccy46 is 60 years old, a mother of two, and has been married for 32 years. "Disappearing" is nonfiction.