Fiction, Health and wellbeing, Relationship and marriage, Writing

Sprain

‘Come back!’ Erica called.

It was no use. Her words caught in the wind, and flew back in her face. Ahead of her Harry continued on, oblivious.

Erica watched in dismay. She was sitting on the cold, snowy ground. Her ankle throbbed under her snow pants and boots. Her beanie had flown away as she tripped, and was out of her reach, about three metres behind her. Her ears were icy-cold, her butt damp.

She placed two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Harry kept plodding through the deep snow. She repeated her whistle. This time, she noticed he stopped.

‘Harrrrry!’ she yelled. ‘Harrrry! Come back.’

He turned. She waved her arms wide and high. In the distance, Erica noticed his brows shot up and he opened his mouth wide. She assumed he was calling to her, but the wind took them long before they reached her.

Harry began to retrace his steps back to her. She slid her backpack from her shoulders and reached for her water bottle. She was rifling in her pack for the first aid kit when Harry finally arrived by her side.

‘Babe, what happened?’ he asked.

‘Ah, I just tripped. I think I twisted my ankle. I didn’t want to take off my boot to look.’ She paused. ‘Coz it’s cold, and I don’t think I’d get it back on again.’

‘Yeah, good thinking,’ Harry agreed. ‘Let me have a feel.’

He slid his hand around her ankle and moved it from side to side. She winced.

‘You’ve got pretty good movement,’ Harry said.

Erica nodded in agreement. ‘I think it’s just a sprain.’ Despite the throbbing, she was fairly confident it was a minor injury.

‘We’ll wait here for an hour or so, then move on.’ Harry offered. ‘How does that sound to you?’

‘Great,’ Erica smiled as she offered Harry a muesli bar. ‘Might as well have a snack while we’re here.’

She nestled her back into Harry’s chest, snuggled right in to keep warm.

 

10 thoughts on “Sprain”

  1. They wait. The sprained ankle, however, is not her only injury, because as she fell Erica managed to tear an artery. While keeping the boot on may have been a reasonable thought, her foot slowly swells and after the hour of joy nestling her head in Harry’s chest with occasional wet sloppy kisses and various other forms of fondling, when Erica tries to stand to walk she finds she cannot. The swelling has stopped the supply of blood to her foot. The euphoria of being in Harry’s arms acted as an anaesthetic. Frostbite has already begun. Eventually, Erica requires a trans-tarsal amputation, and Harry finds a mildly disabled companion a hideous thought and dumps her on the day Erica is fitted with a prosthetic to improve her gait.
    At least the muesli bar tasted good.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Alternative ending: Harry never heard her whistle and didn’t turn around. By the time he realized Erica was not behind him, it was several hours later. He retraced his steps, but it got dark and he decided to head back to the lodge to get help. A search party left first thing the next morning and they finally found Erica, her frozen body, almost hidden by the snow that had fallen overnight. She had perished from hypothermia sometime during the freezing, dark night. Oh well.

    Liked by 1 person

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