A dried black rose lay on the bedside.
There was a somber silence.
Two glasses of wine were on the table with parched lipstick marks.
Two photo
frames, tissues from her favorite restaurants and a rose gold hourglass.
Red
chopsticks with golden moldings on which ‘Fulfillment’ was delicately carved in
Chinese calligraphy.
Perfume bottles with just about 3 milliliters of perfume
that she left to store.
She sprayed some to remind her of road trips and some
were just remembrances of home.
Fairy lights hung on the windowsill because the
sun wen down too early. That’s what she said but secretly she was looking for
magic in her normality.
A sketch pad and a box of fine liners, because art took
her away from the rut of her daily life.
A vase with a purple daffodil - standing tall
and statuesque.
Books - half read, fully read and untouched.
A box
full of photographs, mostly sepia.
Letters rolled and tied with red ribbons.
Memorabilia,
smiles, memories and other ephemera.
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