Stephen W. Leslie
The hospital bed still warm to the touch as it was hauled away. Her husband sat head down, in the living room. Her oldest daughter was nowhere to be found; her youngest walked from room to room trying to collect her scattered thoughts. A hospice nurse arrived to remove the remaining meds.
All the assurances of the Oncologist now suddenly hollow. The hospital room a memory.
Weeks later her books and dresses pass into the hands of friends, a new urn appears upon the mantle.
Her little dog
Eagerly waits by the front door
For her return