Cheryl’s husband Dave passed away on a late autumn day. She was reading the local paper in the bedroom as she watched the falling leaves.
Orange and red shapes, whirling and drifting on the cool afternoon breeze.
When she read the obituary, she gasped, and let go of the local newspaper which fell to the floor with a strange rumpling sound.
Dave had left her for Julienne, a short while after the children had left home, but she suspected that they’d been having an affair long before he announced he was leaving her.
She’d always hoped that it was just a fling; a midlife crisis, or a moment of temporary insanity but the years had passed.
They remained friends on Facebook but neither of them were of that generation.
He continued with his life and she couldn’t. Hers had been sucked from her and all of the happiness and laughter with it.
She went downstairs to the garage, found the can of kerosene and poured the contents into a metal basin.
Out popped her gold wedding band.
She wiped it clean and slid it back onto her wedding finger.
Only then did the tears trickle down her cheeks.
Sunday means it’s Sunday Photo Fiction Day! It’s a lovely Flash Fiction challenge to write a very short story (no more than 200 words) inspired by a photo.
This post features the bouquet my wife and I shared when we renewed our vows on a cruise ship sailing between Australia and New Zealand a few years back. Next year we will celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary!