San Diego Dust

• Trent Parker, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2013

San Diego was pretty dusty this time of year, Shyla’s paddocks were dry and the corn was hard to sow. I hadn't had much luck with my farming this year, hadn't had much luck with anything this year.
I never knew about the quarry near the far left paddocks but over time this was becoming my retreat, I fished down there but it wasn't the fishing I enjoyed, it was the serenity. Hopes and dreams were never my thing, I finished high school and discovered my fondness for agriculture. I never liked the beach so I moved into the country, found a wife and had two children. The children are hotshot lawyers and don’t speak to us, I am quite proud of them, they had a chance to do something amazing and they took it, my choice of a lifestyle wasn't for them but I still liked it.
Slowly after time I grew bored of my new found haven, the limestone quarry. I made my way up to the boat shack, smiling as I saw the splintering planks starting to get defeated by the humidity. For now I wasn't angry but I rather just grinned upon the slow downfall of everything in my life. My suede boots carried me up to my house, I opened the mailbox and saw emptiness, I didn't find it strange though, Shyla must have given up for today and came home early, good, I liked seeing my wife occasionally. I opened the door and saw my loving, stressed out wife sitting at our dining table, a cup of tea shaking in her hand, she forced a small smile and explained the bad news.
In all honesty I tried to act sad and down, but as she struck me with the news, something that would have rendered another person depressed and contemplating life, I laughed. The chuckle I let out wasn't filled with sarcastic humour hiding a depressed inner mind but rather a hearty giggle that genuinely made me happy. Finally something to fill my time, something to make me stand out in a crowd, and it came in the form of cancer.
After 3 months of chemotherapy, radiation and numerous therapist appointments, I was about to give up on trying to fight an inevitable death. Sometimes Shyla would yell and scream, not to me of course but to innocent people like telemarketers and salesmen, I knew she was stressed to her limit and as much as I tried to soothe her I couldn't fix her problems. Without her knowledge I bought her a flat on the San Diego shore front, it was beautiful, something my darling deserved.
I never worked out why people feared death because as my days neared their unavoidable end, my life went smoother than ever before, I said goodbye with everyone on my deathbed, had my last kiss and eventually my glimmer of life faded.