It’s after afterwards.
All is still and silent; memories have skin of frost.
He had waited by her side; first through sickness and later by her headstone,
They had been happy once beside the sea. They planned for family, they dreamt of everything, of years and growing old together.
But they never planned for nightmares of her paraplectic comatose.
Until he whispered:
“Take her off the life-support. ”
He always said she listened and that she waited too. She claimed that she’d forgiven DUI.
I doubt that they’re together now. That’s why we left his empty chair and spread the ash.
I’m partially back to writing again. I will do my best returning visits but after an eye operation I tire easily.
If you are interested in my poetic plans, you can read an interview on Poetry United.
Friday Fictioneers is the site for hundred word fictions where we write stories to the same image under the guidance of Rochelle.
April 26, 2017