Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • We paramedics and former paramedics (I am one of the latter) have a plethora of stories we can entertain our friends with. Many are downright funny. Then there are the ones like this that we don't usually talk about. This is almost exactly what I felt compelled to write in my journal a few days later.

    She had left herself hanging in the front room of all places. Nearly naked, a puddle of urine on the floor.

    Her son had cut her down in the midst of his anguish.

    I admit I wasn't prepared. Pure-white hair, standing on end. Eyes opened wide to the maelstrom within.
    Curled lips and bared teeth, which spoke of terror and violence in equal measure.

    I searched for a trace, a sign, a meaning. But there was nothing left of the wild woman.
    She was gone, having shed her worldly skin.

    Sorrowful and heavy, I covered her up. There was work to be done and comfort to give.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.