My DearestMy Dearest11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Every night I walk the narrow path to The Door, Your Door. (I tell no one. I make sure they're not watching). They tried to keep me from you. Did you know they hid the letters? They hid them, but I found them in the attic underneath a pile of your clothes. They tried to donate those too, but I stopped them. I had a fit and I made them stop. Everyday my nightgown is damp with tears, but at night I have comfort. I know you're with me then.
Already there is talk of moving on. It's been a whole year, they say. I need to Let Go, Move On, but I'm making plans of moving in. They tire of me day after day; not dressing, hardly eating