The Morning I Became a Widow

By Kamille Little

The morning I became a widow, I woke up early to make him breakfast. I made the usual: waffles, bacon, and coffee. While cooking, I remembered his ill condition from the night before. Accordingly, I grabbed a clear bottle from the medicine cabinet and mixed it into the coffee. I wrote him a daily love letter.

Promptly, he came downstairs. I cleaned the dishes while he ate.

After finishing, he smacked and fingered the food out of his coffee-stained teeth. He unfolded the note marked in dark red; There revealed the letter “A”.

I live peacefully now.

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“I write because it makes my thoughts feel concrete.” – the writer

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