The hours passed because they had to. Time was tormentingly dutiful. We did not eat; we barely slept. I sat almost exclusively in a green-padded chair next to the bed, so I could reach the stand with some basic supplies and be within an arm's-length of the bed. The window over my right shoulder offered a little natural light, and the occasional scurrying of nurses in the hallway, just to the left of straight-ahead, broke the monotony. For hours at a time I sat in that chair, aligned with my wife's waist and angled to stare at her face. Alta took up residence on the bench at the foot of the bed, staring longingly up from her mother's feet. When night fell, she simply rolled onto her side and dozed off. A padded bench under the window became an alternate makeshift bed, but we barely used it.
Mai periodically awoke but was only partially aware of her surroundings. She sometimes grabed my arm and squeezed as tightly as she could. Each time the grip became weaker and weaker. Her face was drawn and pale. She had not been able to say anything audible since my arrival, but I was not asking for her to say anything. Each time she moaned, as if trying to talk, I wept nearly without control. On occasion, she did muster a few words together. I only wished that she could have one last chance to speak, if this was in fact the end—one last time for her to tell her daughter that she was loved. That's all I desired, should Death's arrival be imminent.
Support (2 Archivists/4 Users/7 Total)
I have no reason to object to this. It is well written and deeply moving. Savage1138 22:19, October 1, 2011 (UTC)
Proof of what I've said (to others IRL) about the grand and diverse panorama of possibilities that the Star Wars universe offers for good old-fashioned storytelling. No Sith, no Jedi, no damn fool idealistic crusades, just one being's raw emotional experience. GoodwoodDebating Society12,018 Edits 23:17, January 14, 2012 (UTC)
It's a deliberate personification of death not only as a moment in one's life, but as some type of mystical/spiritual entity. I wouldn't do this type of a literary device for every character's story, but I wanted this very specifically for Eddicus. It will be repreased in other works that feature him. I can make an article about Death, if necessary. — Fiolli 02:24, November 2, 2011 (UTC)
"Alta stayed in my arms for about five minutes" This wouldn't be weird, except that in the paragraph before, you made a point of noting that time no longer had any meaning for him.
The word about was there to soften it. I've tweaked it just a touch, so hopefully it's better. — Fiolli 02:24, November 2, 2011 (UTC)
"Death had won the round with my wife; such inevitability having come far too early." This sentence seems awkward.
That's all. Jeez, Fiolli, this story sends chills down my spine every time I read it, it's so hauntingly sad. Atarumaster88(Talk page) 19:56, November 1, 2011 (UTC)
Thanks, Ataru. I appreciate you reading it. — Fiolli 02:24, November 2, 2011 (UTC)
I support the nomination of the short story, but I am not always present on wikia. I will do my best to address any objections in a timely manner. — Fiolli 15:02, September 13, 2011 (UTC)
Archivist review from Atarumaster88
The Passing is Fiolli's second Featured Work and it's aptly named. This work captures the anguish of losing a loved one with its painful ache and sense of loss. The story is short, but the depth of characterization and writing is such that readers can easily identify with the protagonists. Once the actual "passing" occurs, I feel the father figure is a bit too quick to conceal his grief after his previously frank expressions of sadness. It works, but perhaps not quite as well as it can. That is but a very slight comment against an otherwise gripping work. I highly recommend The Passing, though I also suggest a box of tissues for the soft of heart. 4.5 out of 5 narrative, 5 out of 5 technical. Atarumaster88(Talk page) 02:39, November 2, 2011 (UTC)