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The Window

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Grief is an emotion many of us have experienced, some of us in unhealthy ways. Below is a short short story about a woman dealing with despair.

The Window

I spent the day looking out the window again. Sitting here in my blue chair separated from the outside world by a thin pane of glass I somehow feel safer.

It's been three years since I last walked through my own front door, three years since the accident, three years since you left me. Most days I just sit waiting for something to happen. I wait to spot a deer running across the lawn. I wait to hear the sound of gravel in the driveway being crushed by the wheels of a car. I wait for you to return.

I fell asleep this morning while sitting in my blue chair by the window. I held your ring in my hand, and dreamed of you as a child. I took your hands in mine, and twirled you around and around in a circle so fast, your feet lifted off the ground. We laughed and ran through a field of wheat the color of gold and sunshine was so rich it tasted like chocolate on my tongue. We collapse on to the ground, and you laid your head on my shoulder and pointed to the clouds the shape of elephants in the sky.

When I woke, nothing had changed. I was still sitting in my blue chair by the window, my fist had closed so tightly around your ring it felt as if it was embedded in my skin.

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