Hazel Tree, The Father continued

Fog had covered the ground the day she told him. It had crept over the grounds, giving a haze of comforting obscurity to familiar features; but he remembered it with the clarity of crystal.

“I am with child again.”

Her drawn, starkly white face; the papers falling from his hand; the growing terror down his spine; the child happily cooing in the next room. He remembered it all.
It was his last clear memory for several months.
Through the haze of doctors, he watched his wife grow more ill and tired each day. Complications, they said. She was dying. There was nothing complicated about that.

If only he had known earlier. If only they had been more careful. If only it wasn’t so hard. If only, if only, if only.

She died on the first day of spring.

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Categories: Unfactual Truth | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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