Thursday, July 22, 2010
She woke with the light of the morning, still in the dress she wore yesterday. She stood and walked to the window and looked out at the sky. Smoothing the dark, wrinkled silk over her thighs, her thoughts turned to her dreams. She'd had a fitful sleep burdened with painful dreams. Painful, because they reminded her of him, of their life together, of how full of life he had been and how that life had been cut so, so short.
She turned around and surveyed the room... their room. His flannel shirt still hung on the back of the closed door, his shoes, where he'd left them in front of the closet. Her half-full wine glass remained on the dresser. She'd left it there last night, or was it very early this morning? The red liquid still. It hadn't helped to still her mind... hadn't helped to still her grief. She went to the door and buried her face in his shirt. Breathing in his scent, his very essence... and she wondered how she would cope with her half-empty life.