I opened my eyes and saw a paramedic kneeling beside me.
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All tagged marriage
I opened my eyes and saw a paramedic kneeling beside me.
My loving, difficult sister offered to come the weekend before my first child’s birth.
Months after my 37-year-old husband dies, I discover the borrowed Vivaldi album tucked among our other LPs.
Desperate, I tell Alexa, “Play some music.” Truth Hurts by Lizzo comes on.
“Have faith in me,” he said when he hit on the Next Big Thing. “We will be richer than you could ever imagine.”
The floor thrusts towards the ceiling. Walls splinter and pieces of plaster crumble around us.
I was scrubbing dried toothpaste from the sink when my inner monologue was interrupted by a yelp from my husband, downstairs.
I sat opposite my wife, but this was not the date I had planned. This had become hostile, confrontational.
Gingerly, I hang that old-fashioned orb of sparkle on a pine branch. Glass ornaments can shatter so easily.