Wednesday, May 4, 2011


with the cold, cheap beer in her iced tea glass, drunk by nine in the morning, she would settle into her routine. a tuna sandwich for lunch everyday. a nap, and another drink to ease the pain. a phone call to her brother. listening for the postman while pretending to watch t.v.

and always spending hours and minutes dreaming of the two husbands she lost; one by divorce, one by death.

i visited often and listened to her stories, and always about how the electric shock therapy caused her watch to keep funny time.

i miss her in the early morning.

1 comment:

  1. could there be a more beautiful short bit written about our dear one? tears fill my eyes and pain, my heart. but i am comforted with thinking of what she must be doing right now. i love you. thank you for this.