A corner patio table is her reward for being early. She orders herself an iced tea and takes a moment to people watch. It's good to feel the breeze on her face.
Sun, Jul. 17th, 2011, 03:06 pm
In The Darkness
The breeze that blew in through her window was warm. It swept past her face as she peered out from the second story of the clinic. As she'd done many times before, she leaned a hip on the old sill and clutched her coffee cup in both hands. Her eyes roamed the street below, taking stock of the neighborhood she called home, before they swung upward toward the evening sky. Dick, Tim, and Selina were out there somewhere she knew. Her thoughts naturally fell to Bruce.
With a heavy and mournful heart, she turned her back on the cityscape.
Wed, Apr. 13th, 2011, 06:51 pm
Wed, Oct. 21st, 2009, 09:12 pm
Every resident of this great estate has shared a common love for knowledge. There are books everywhere. In the main library downstairs, the number is seemingly immeasurable. Finer collections of historical manuscripts can only be found at universities. One can't wander the halls of Wayne Manor and not be struck by the hideaways on the second floor. It is one particular hideaway Leslie seeks. It adjoins a bedroom, once occupied by a small boy.
The morning sun shines in through the window against the far wall. At its base is a window seat, large enough to accommodate two adults. Or one adult and a child. Sitting there on the cushion is a book, never shelved and never forgotten.
Without apprehension or fear of intrusion, she picks it up and takes a seat. So many times before she's opened the cover and read aloud. She does so now, if only for herself.
"Alice was beginning to get very tired..."
Fri, Oct. 9th, 2009, 11:22 am
Despite the glorious day outside, Leslie remains inside as she waits. There is always a chance when she arrives unannounced that there will be a delay. The Master of the House does not keep a regular schedule. With a content heart, she elects to wander. The manor is full of rich history, of sparks that ignite her memory.
In the ballroom, she can hear the sound of music. The trombones sing boldly amidst the soft clarinets as Glenn Miller's "A String of Pearls" plays. She shares a dance with Thomas Wayne. Then... years later, she shares a dance with his son. Martha is concerned about the number of potential participants in this years charity auction. She's received fewer responses than expected. Leslie reassures her. The auction will take care of itself. Alfred places a tray of drinks on the nearby table. For a moment, their eyes meet. She smiles.
The music fades. The guests vanish as they dance. The ballroom is empty. It is not as it once was.
She weeps not.
The future is bright.
Fri, Sep. 11th, 2009, 10:16 am
Thousands of decisions are made in the course of an average day. Major decisions however should and do take considerably longer. Three months after initially pondering, Leslie has come to her decision. It's time to resign.
The months of consideration have provided her with a concrete degree of confidence. Decades of work won't be forgotten. A more intense focus awaits her. The position will be handed down to someone younger, someone with more stamina. The decision will not be held in judgment against her. She'll look back with no regrets. The time is in fact right.
The letter has been composed and signed. All that remains is delivery. On a bright, beautiful day in September, Dr. Thompkins travels to Bristol. It's a duty that must be done in person, out of respect and affection.
"Let no man, woman, or child be deprived of health care. Relieve those who suffer. Tend the wounded. Cure the diseased. Treat the disadvantaged. Turn no one away."
- From the mission statement, The Thomas Wayne Foundation
Hope for the best, expect the worst. It's one of the many valuable lessons Leslie has learned over the years. Taught by her father, reinforced by experience. She had hoped the bomb delivered maliciously to the clinic
would not be an indication of things to come. Somehow she knew that wouldn't be the case.
A week later, there are three patients in residence. Black Mask has had his revenge
. Leslie and a select few are left to pick up the pieces.
The year has a particular cycle. Birthdays come and go. As do anniversaries, both joyful and sorrowful. Leslie remembers them all. For they are the glue that binds the days together. One might think with a schedule as chaotic as hers that she would forget to mark the passing of days important. The unpredictable however makes her more cognizant of events past, moments etched in history and commemorated with regularity.
Instead of making her usual trip to the manor, she steers the car elsewhere. It isn't a distant drive but the memories make it lengthy. She parks and steps out into the warm breeze. Summer is just around the corner and the flowers that have erupted in spurts around the cemetery are proof.
One year ago today, she lost a patient on the operating table. She watched with a heart heavy as last words were exchanged between older and younger, between teacher and student, between experienced and inexperienced. In the end, those words did not save her. Nothing could have saved her, nothing short of a miracle. That miracle didn't come.
Leslie didn't know the girl all that well. Perhaps that is part of the tragedy. Opportunities lost are mourned just as easily as relationships that never were. She should have taken the time. Those chances are long since gone now. All that is left is a marker, a name, and images of a life taken before its time.
Bruce would be here if he were able, standing in the very spot Leslie now occupies. She finds herself decidedly thankful that he isn't.
Sun, Apr. 29th, 2007, 07:40 pm
While she's in the house, she takes advantage of the quiet. When he arrives in the kitchen that morning, there is breakfast waiting. Tea is steaming and to his taste. The dishes she's used have been cleared away. The chores that normally occupy the early hours have been done by another pair of hands. To begin his birthday, there will be rest and the comfort that comes with sipping one's beverage. Not extravagant by any means. Then again, life need not be complicated to be enjoyed.