This is my SF story.  Jean has done a very nice job with the craft, evident in her vivid scene and of course, has implied a much larger story here.

 

 

Cold Storage

by

Jean Lauzier

 

 

            Susan opened her eyes and tried to look around.  Her vision blurred as her stomach churned.  She closed her eyes and moaned softly.  Fingers brushed the hair from her forehead.  She opened her eyes again and stared up into eyes of green.

            "Just lie still.  Some lightheadedness is to be expected.  It will go away soon."

            She cleared her throat.  "You're not my doctor and this isn't my room.  Where am I?" Green Eyes laughed and slid a chair next to her bed and sat.

            "Incline head of bed to seventy degrees please."  A quiet hum accompanied the raising of the top half of the bed.  "I'm Julian Mercer, and I'm your doctor now."  His eyes met hers.  "I promise to answer all your questions.  But first, how do you feel?  Can you move your toes?"

            Susan closed her eyes, wiggled her toes.  Her eyes flew open; she moved her feet under the light cover.  "They moved...I feel them."  She turned to Dr. Mercer.  "But how?  They said I could never be fixed."

            "And how does the rest of you feel?"

            "A little dizzy if I move quick..." she paused.  "I think I'm hungry too."

            "That's a very good thing."  He laughed and looked at the wall behind her.  "Warm chicken broth please.  And iced green tea."

            Request processed.  Estimated response time fifteen minutes        

            "Tell me what you remember last."

            Susan closed her eyes, "the phone rang...I couldn't reach it...I stretched, lost my balance."  She opened her eyes, shook her head.  "That's it."

            He nodded.  "You must have fallen.  Records indicate you suffered a head trauma and lapsed into a coma."

            She sucked in her breath, leaned forward.  "David...has anyone called my husband?"

            "Your husband must have loved you very much." His eyes held hers.  "He made arrangements for you to be placed in cryo-stasis until you could be healed.  That was two hundred seventy-one years ago."

            "Frozen? For almost three hundred years?"  She sank back into bed.  "It feels like yesterday."  The door whooshed open and she stared as a cart entered and made its way to the foot of her bed and stopped.  She looked at Green Eyes, "How?"

            He laughed, opened the cart and retrieved the tray.  "It's computer guided.  Here, drink this.  Go slow, it's hot." 

            "Smells wonderful." She took a deep breath and sighed.  "David felt guilty.  He was having an affair...I stayed at school for lunch."  She took a small sip.  "I was in the wrong place at the right time."  She met his gaze.  "What will I do now?  I'm useless...no one needs a three hundred year old school teacher even if I can walk now. David should have let me die." A tear slid down her cheek.

            "Never think that.  Your recovery is very important to many people.  And after that, the possibilities are unlimited.  First, we get you up and around though."  He raised his glass.  "A toast...to your future."

            She forced a small smile, raised her mug. "No, to the present...and those possibilities."