Tuesday, December 6, 2011


She stands at the sink, doing the dishes again. The window over the sink gives her the perfect view of him walking up the sidewalk. She heart skips a beat just thinking of being in his arms again. She sloshes suds over the plate and stares out the window, her mind thousands of miles away. She imagines him sitting in the sand, water bottle in hand, and laughing with those gathered around him. He was their class clown, and she knew he would be making all those around him laugh, he would be lifting their spirits for a few minutes anyway.

She puts the dish down, her eyes blurring with the tears that never seem to dry up. She turns and walks into the living room and over to the fireplace. On the mantle is his picture, how handsome he is in his uniform. As she places the picture back, she picks up the black case beside it and opens it. Inside placed on the gray lining is his purple heart and gold star. She then runs her hand over the tri-folded flag and realized he would never walk up that sidewalk again.


Cheryl aka Shaddy said...

I love your sentimental heart and the way you understand women.

Elizabeth Westmark said...

Heartbreaking. Beautifully written.