She gave a shudder. A bottle of wine was opened on the coffee table and she had just gotten to the mail. The glass was in her hand as she read a note from her daughter and a bill from the dentist. Then she opened the last envelop in the pile. The letter said “This service is not available to you because you live in a group home.” She was not even approaching the age where she would be in a group home. How had they gotten the idea that she was that old, that invalid in their world.
The Waiting Room for Heaven was an RV Resort/Trailer Court. True, the name was not the most uplifting in the world but whatever possessed them to think it was a group home!
The ad said that if you applied, you would receive a free converter for your television set when high definitions television became the norm. It was a $40 rebate on the converter. She and her husband had two television so she had applied for two. But the application had been refused because the person that did the accepting and refusing had been a little confused by the name on the address. When she sent the application she had not thought anything about filling in the optional information on the form and had listed, along with her address, the name of the place where she lived.
Like a very large mountain, there was no way around it, over it or under it. It became a symbol of where they were and how long they had lived. She did not need the devise, she w0uld simply buy beautiful flat screen high definition television set. The screen would shimmer in her living room with it’s smooth glass finish. But the letter was a nail, a very large nail in her coffin.