She died in her sleep, two months following their 70th wedding anniversary, and was buried four days later.
He spent the funeral in a dream. Dreams of their wedding day, a life well lived, the last day they spent together reading quietly in their favorite chairs. He could not let her go and requested a closed casket funeral, refusing to look on her lifeless body.
He arrived from the funeral entering a house haunted by her presence.
” Shall I put the kettle on” the voice came from the kitchen. He rushed eagerly forward but she wasn’t there. Her voice is still in my head, he thought as he reached for the kettle, filled it with water and placed it on the stove. Reminders of her permeated the house. Her clothes in the closet…
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