His presence was everywhere. Picking up a candlestick Blanche remembered that holiday to France fifty years ago. Robert had bought one in every town they stayed. “We’ll remember the night we conceived with one of these” he had laughed when she told him they had bought enough memories. Now she couldn’t have enough memories.
Struggling for breath she moved slowly to the next room. She sat, leaning her head on his desk. “Why did you go?” she yelled as the blotting paper gave her a whiff of his lingering smell. His pill bottle came into focus. “I’m coming love.”
Thank you to our host of Friday Fictioneers Rochelle and Sarah Hall for the prompt photo.