(Part one may be tead HERE.)
She stared at the blank Skype chat-box for what seemed like hours, only her reflection looking back at her. Finally she said “Stop it!”, as she tossed the iPad onto the sofa beside her. A tear ran down her cheek as she thought about the nightmares that had haunted her recently.
Maybe it’s because he’s so close to coming home, she thought. That has to be it; my imagination just running wild.
The evenings were so lonely these past months. The nights were the worst; an almost unbearable hush filled the once vibrant home. The house felt so empty with just her there. Thankfully she had reminders of him everywhere she looked. Be it in “things” or memories, his essence was still present, though it diminished a little with each passing day, like the light of a lamp dimming as it burns it’s last drops of fuel.
Six more weeks!, she thought, that seemed so long. But it’ll go by fast – I hope.
The last few months she had been taking a cooking class at the local community center every Friday night. One of her co-workers had suggested it, knowing that Friday evenings were especially hard for her. It had been an excellent idea, too, though she strenuously resisted it for weeks. Now it helped replace their movie nights with something constructive – more so than sitting sobbing on the sofa.
She picked up the iPad to put it away, thinking about those last words she’d said to him, Be careful tonight, wishing she could take them back. She hadn’t told him, or anyone, about the nightmares; he didn’t need to know her extra worries and she didn’t want the extra council from her friends about them.
(Linked to Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes.)