“Taken too soon,” the family said as they boxed up her things, sterilizing my home of anything to remind me of her passing. Really, those things reminded me of her life.
The visits started one week after her funeral. The family resumed their lives. I tried, and failed, to start mine anew.
She comes at dusk, when the lines between day and night blur to forget time, allowing the past to visit the present. Her things packed away, she visits as music.
“I’m here,” she calls as our song on the radio.
“I miss you,” I say to the air.
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This is sad, of course, but a very creative take on the prompt.
Thanks, Sandra.
Drat. Now I’m crying. How? How did you do that in 100 words? Your good, very good. Now I’m off to find happy videos.
Beautifully sad and yet uplifting. Love that blurry time between day and night, well captured.