Coughing, violently, Agatha, took more of the the laudanum. The reddish brown liquid tasted bitter. Agatha squinted her eyes and took more. “My whole life has been a dream,” she thought. From the beautiful flower meadows among the hillsides, to those same war- torn mountains to the ring of mountains around her adopted home, Agatha thought her life had filled with color and then despair. She swollowed more of the sticky liquid.
Coughs caught the medicine midway, as the liquid tried to run down her throat, spilling red on the side of her mouth.
She laid her head on the pillow, eyes shut against the memories of the smiles: Andres, mischievious; John, shy; Herr Finkam, knowing; her mother, wise; and Bella, roucous. Those smiles made her smile. And as she closed her eyes, she felt at peace without a care in the world.