Empty House

Her roses bloom whenever Oscar flips on the kitchen light. Sure, they’ve faded—what wouldn’t after thirty-five years and grandkids?— but they’re still where Lois stenciled them, in perfect rows between the cabinet doors and on the mourning faces of every drawer.

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I am a writer for an e-Learning course vendor near Chicago.

20 thoughts on “Empty House”

  1. ah, sad those mourning faces are, yet filled with loving memories, of all the hopes for coming days, stencilled there with care.

    As usual, words meld under your design to form impressions that last in my mind.

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