Don't Blame Bill

What the Hell does one do with these micro-stories? I guess one posts them on his blog.
(By the way, Stewart HATES the PS at the end. You can hate it too.)

Don’t Blame Bill
617 Words


As you can tell from the first page I wrote, I fully expect to die and so that was my will; who gets what and all. This page is more of an explanation of my current circumstances and I hope you will understand.
Everything was all right, here in the shack, and we were pretty well prepared to sit it out until Spring. Even the blizzard, heavy as it was, didn't mean much as we had plenty of provisions and I'd dug the latrine deep. It is obvious, though, that I hadn't reckoned on that roof beam breaking; but break it did and in came the roof and most of two walls. The beam hit me square on the shoulder and knocked me down and as you can no doubt tell from the position of the beam and my broken bones, it ended up hard across my two legs, just above the knee. As to the matter of pain, I can tell you that at first it hardly hurt at all, even for some while after I regained consciousness. Later, in what I think was the second day it hurt a lot but that didn't seem to last too long. This may have a something to do with the way the snow fell in on me, covering my lower legs where the beam was. I believe the cold is mostly responsible for my present numbness.

_______________________________________________________________________

One consequence of the damned roof breaking was that it knocked over the map table, so now I have the backs of our geologic survey maps to write on. Sadly, the pantry was not so effected and I can only stare at the can of pork and beans on the shelf. I have never thought much about such things so I am purely ignorant as to which of my situations will do me in first, the cold, the starvation or something concerning my leg; I can't see it and maybe I've got some loss of blood or something.

________________________________________________________________________


I think it has been several days since the roof fell. I keep sleeping or maybe passing out.

_______________________________________________________________________

I haven't mentioned Bill, but it's important that you know some things. First, smart as he is, he can't figure out that I would like very much for him to fetch me that can of beans. He's a good dog and he spends a lot of the time curled up against me and that keeps us both warm, but somehow I imagine he's doing it mostly for my benefit. Bill is looking pretty skinny now and I don't guess he's eaten since the roof fell. I haven't even seen him leave the shack, even though he could.

_______________________________________________________________________

I get real bad dreams and am dizzy.

_______________________________________________________________________

I think I just slept for a long time but I'm still real tired and may take another nap.

________________________________________________________________________

Bill is with me all the time now.

________________________________________________________________________

When you find me dead, I kind of expect you'll find Bill alive. He's been a good boy and I told him, after I'm gone that if he was starving, he could have such meat as I might provide. Should he choose to do that, I don't want you to hold it against him, as it was my wish. Don't blame Bill.

________________________________________________________________________

A POST SCRIPT

Dear Mrs. O'Hara,
You have my deepest sympathy. In addition to the enclosed will and letter, I am enclosing your son's other personal effects. Most importantly, let me add that when we were able to get back to the cabin in May, we found two skeletons.