Turning

Turning the corner and whistling cheerfully Mark strolled towards his gate. “This is a fine day,” he thought, “A mighty fine day.”

Turning the key in the lock he gently opened the door so as not disturb his wife in case she was resting. “I’m in the front room,” she called as Mark hung his coat over the bannister and walked in to see his wife staring at a sheet of paper on the table.

Turning the letter over Mark's heart fell as he began to read. It was from the Hospital and it was the results of her tests.

Turning it over in his mind later he wondered how such a fine day could shatter instantly with just three words.

Turning from the grave some three months later Mark wondered if he would ever want to whistle cheerfully again. His friends and family were some comfort but nothing could fill the aching void in his heart and soul.

Turning to the bottle on the tray he poured the last remains into the glass and sank back into his chair. The empty bottle of pills fell from the arm.

Turning off the TV he felt the lids of his eyes slide down until all that remained was darkness.

Turning towards Katie he felt an enormous rush of love fill his body. What were the chances that the woman who found and saved him would become his wife? He didn’t even want to think about it

Turning his eyes upwards he smiled as he found he had been whistling.

He had turned his corner.