Sheila picked her way over shards of broken glass, quenching her anger as she went. She focused on the pieces, lit by the sunlight. “You’re even beautiful when shattered,” she whispered to no-one. The vase had been a present for her twenty-first birthday and the only memory piece she’d kept of her mother when they downsized. Her eyes welled with tears and she tried to bring back the anger. It was easier to manage than this overwhelming sense of loss.
“Harry!” Screaming abuse at her husband would give her an outlet but her call was met with silence. ‘Harry!” Her angry call was replaced by one filled with anguish as she noticed a ladder lying on the ground with her husband on the floor next to it. She rushed to Harry but could see it was too late. He was gone. Fifty years together, the love of her life.
“Harry, you bastard. I’ve told you before – put the safety catches on the ladder when you use it.” Anger definitely made it easier.
word count 174
Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFfAW and to Enisa for providing this week’s photo prompt.