Long Way Home by DB COX
Alvin Stone is headed home. Because of his flimsy slippers, he’s finding it hard to step in time with the music. It’s getting late. The warmth has left the sun, and he wants to reach home before nightfall. “This time Eve, my dear,” he promises, “I’ll take my pills. I’ll keep quiet. I swear—this time I’ll be good.” Alvin halts. His pulse quickens. Just ahead—his house.
…Patients in the ward turn toward the old man as he stops wandering the walls and cries out her name. They watch mesmerized as he runs his right hand up and down his gown pulling frantically at a non-existent pocket—searching for his house key.