February 24, 2009
He looked around, curiously. He hadn’t been in his wife’s bedroom for – how long? Months? Surely it couldn’t be years. Her bedside table was awash in books, magazines, an overflowing ashtray and a crumpled, half-empty pack of cigarettes. A n elaborate perfume bottle lay on its side in a sticky pool beside a lipstick in a gold case, a kissed Kleenex. Though she wasn’t here, her presence was still strong, and as mysterious as if she stood amid the characteristic chaos she created. He sighed and closed the door as he left her room. Would he ever see her again?