Comatose

by Graham Saunders

  ~o~

  After his reconciliation with Frank Bentley, Alexander felt his spirits lifted. He felt able to get his head down and finish the work on the novel. All that was needed was to draw the threads together and make it look like and read like a polished and complete piece of work. It would take weeks, months, years even he did not know but completing the book was where all his time and energy would be invested until it was complete. Almost constantly he found himself wanting to discuss things with Emily, he would look up from his screen seeking her opinion but she was no longer there. He had to finish the work on his own and he had to do it for Emily. As far as he knew he was still a stranger to her. The thought was painful, and he remembered the lack of recognition in her eyes at the hospital as a pain. That lack of recognition cut deeply and he tried to remember her as the ephemeral muse who had known him and had worked long hours late into the night at his side. Alexander's quest was to finish his novel in a manner that would do justice to the work already completed. He wanted to finish the book for his own satisfaction but he also wanted to finish it for his absent companion. The first thing he wrote was a dedication to Emily. Then he worked with a passion, spending all his hours in completing the novel. It had now taken on more importance to him than any work of fiction might be expected to; it was the only tangible link he had left to Emily and he wanted that connection to shine from its pages.

  He emerged exhausted, emaciated from the long relentless months but finally it was complete and he felt that what he had written was the most important thing he had ever done in his life. Being dragged from his own emotions, he doubted that he would ever be able to match it again.

  Whether he managed to get the book published was less important to him than the journey of writing it had been. However, he wrote a synopsis of the story and included a couple of the chapters and sent copies to ten different publishers. He sent them off with little expectation. Then he tried to put Emily's memory into a compartment in his mind for fond memories that he could look into when his thoughts turned that way.

  Alexander was wholly unsuccessful in this. Emily stayed stubbornly at the forefront of his thoughts.