A Short Short Story

The old woman lies on her back on the floor in corpse pose, a pillow under her knees, her hands to her side, palms up, resting.

Photo Credit: Steve A Johnson via Compfight cc

I’m getting stronger, she thinks, remembering that just a few weeks ago, it had been impossible to lie on the floor without severe back pain after only being able to do a short yoga routine. Now she can do the entire routine from a videotape she memorized years ago.

She opens her eyes, feeling both relaxed and energized, and raises herself up with unfamiliar ease. Why has it taken me so long to get back to this? she thinks as she pushes up to one knee. Sudden, shooting pain from a tendon in her leg reminds her that her body will never be young again, no matter how much yoga she does. She winces and stands up—happy, at least, that there is no pain in her back or hips.

She drinks a glass of water and listens to her stomach rumble. She remembers leftover sausage in the fridge and decides to have it for breakfast instead of her usual green smoothie. She is out of coconut water and greens—and money, until tomorrow when her Social Security check will be automatically deposited—so she’ll have to make do with what’s available.

She needs to get healthier and stronger for the next stage of her life. She’s not truly old yet, but her 70s are staring her in the face. If she doesn’t do something now, it will be too late. That’s why she’s planning a big adventure that will take her to all corners of the continent. She hungers to see all the natural wonders she can cram in before age and infirmity overtake her. She will need to be fit and healthy for the trip.

She sits at her desk and opens the laptop to write in her journal. She is pleased with herself for starting the day off productively for a change. Who knows, she thinks, maybe it’s becoming a habit. Yoga and meditation have been good for her—when she does them. She hopes that’s enough motivation to keep it up, and she starts typing.

The old woman lies on her back on the floor…

She chuckles at the thought of writing about herself in the third person, and wonders if this qualifies as Observer consciousness in Buddhist philosophy. She decides to call herself The Old Woman from now on.