a promise-More Like This
Martha had fought all day against a headache so horrid it felt as if it might split her skull in two, yet, it wasn’t important: the spinning of the room, the fever, the pain in every muscle and bone… it would all be over soon. They were both so familiar with Death, they knew it was coming.
“Tom…” a weak voice whispered from the bed.
“Yes my dear?”
“I… want you to promise me something.”
Thomas brushed his hand over her curly hair, so red, so colorful in contrast to her almost blue lips and pale grey skin. He lay next to her on the bed and she went on:
“When… you have the desire to get married again, you—“
“I will not get married again.”
A smile appeared on her face at these words. Despite being surrounded by kin and servants, Thomas was so close that this conversation was only theirs. Through the bed sheets, Martha could feel the regular and strong pulse of his h