Cough Drop
2003-10-14 - 5:44 p.m.

Evelyn just couldn’t stop coughing. It wasn’t as though this affliction had just begun. She’d had a bug for months, and it just didn’t seem to be getting any better.

She’d drank enough orange juice to sap an orchard, and eaten enough chicken soup to clear a coop, but still, the cough lingered. The headaches and arthritis were getting worse too. Of course, Evelyn was no siren these days. At seventy-six, even the memory of her youth was fading.

She shook her head to clear the webs of memories. It wasn’t too difficult. These days, she had a hard enough time remembering when she wanted to. Forgetting on purpose was a cinch.

Another cough racked her body, and she reached for her bag of cough drops. It was nearly empty. She removed a tablet, and began unwrapping it. She listened to the crinkle of the paper, smelled the medicinal cherry scent. She raised it to her mouth. She tasted its sharp, metallic taste.

She felt it sliding down her throat, and she felt it when it stopped sliding. She tried to breath, tried to scream, tried to do anything but die.

She was unable to do so.

On the bright side, she never coughed again.