afterlife · Communicating with God · Flash Walk Fiction · Marriage · Uncategorized · writing

Flash Walk Fiction: Life After

sliding patio doors overlooking trees
Image found on doorsmith.ca/ Image design altered by Ericajean

Twelve days and eleven nights has gone by and the house have been eerily silent. Sarah blew out one more scented candle before going upstairs.

She purposely closes her eyes so she can avoid pictures frames of him and her together on their wedding night. Birthdays. Vacations. His handsome broad smile and always perfectly white teeth. All frames in neat order along the wall as she ascends to bed.

Smiles, laughter, lovemaking-

Are no more.

Twelve days since the eulogy she couldn’t finish. Twelve days since the burial and then the repast at this home.

And now she was alone.

They were supposed to make it past their fifties, yet cancer killed the dream, causing her strapping, strong husband to become a skeletal frame from a horror film and riddled with pain before taking his final breath.

And tonight will be another lonely one as she sits up with the television on in the dark, her bible laid across her lap.

“Jesus. There has to be an afterlife. I miss him so much,” she hugs the good book to her chest and cries harder.

Crickets begin their music and it drowns out the television. The stars were in the millions tonight and they were little bulbs of beautiful fires. The creaks and moans of her home grew worse tonight but she’ll get used to it.

Finally lying her bible down. She gets out of bed, throw on her silk, white robe she wore on her honey moon and walk over to the large patio doors and open them to look down into the darkened backyard, now lit with the millions of lights.

A soft breeze caresses her cheeks and hair like a lover’s touch.

“There is no such thing as heaven or hell. Loneliness is what I got for loving you.” She hugs her arms around herself, feeling slightly insane that the wind touching her cheeks and flicking her hair, felt too good and familiar.

Finally it swirled all around her, cool and warm all at once.

The scent of Tomorrow.

The End

©Copyright 2016 Erica Jean

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