She sat on the porch, eyes beginning to swell, face streaming with tears. Her rocking chair continued to sway as she crawled into a small ball and prayed. Hoping to turn back the clock. If only she could go back a day. Her husband would still be alive.
One day could make all the difference.
Suddenly, Sara’s tears stopped. She sat up into her rocking chair and folded the letter, placing it into the envelope. She handed it back to the uniformed man as he backed away from the house, watching her with sincere eyes. Swaying for a minute she remembered that she needed to check on her pie. Sweet Cherry Pie for the neighbors, and another to accompany her dinner.
Sara knew dinner still had to be prepared. Her chicken was almost finished and the bread timer was about to go off. She set the ingredients on the counter and dried her mixing bowl.
She sat on her chair and picked up her copy of T.S. Elliot’s poems. She read them for an hour and then got up to clean. She started in the kitchen and continues into the rest of the downstairs. She walked upstairs vacuuming each step on the way. Every room had to be spotless. Once that was all finished she put in her curlers, showered and got into bed. Before falling asleep, she brought out her Bible and read, She prayed for her husband, for her parents and for her neighbors. She set down her Bible, and slept in the silence.
She awoke in the dark and walked to her bedside table. Taking out the curlers one by one, she slowly brushed out each curl. She got into her dress and knelt next to her bed. She prayed, pleading with God not to let her husband leave her.
Sara stood and grabbed his suit jacket from her bed, cradling it in her arms. She placed it on a hanger in the closet. She sat in his large green chair. His smell oozed out of the material. His heavenly musk, floating around the room. She walked downstairs and sat quickly into another chair, this time his brown reading chair. Tears tumbled down her made up face. She stared at the door for almost an hour, barely glancing at the book she had picked up.
Sara stared at the door handle as it began to turn. In he walked, tall as the door frame. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to move. He walked slowly toward her and she jumped into his arms. They didn’t move for minutes. Both of their faces soaked, her cries loud enough to wake the neighbors.
“Don’t leave me, not tonight,” She whispered.
A day was all the difference.
“Okay Sara, I won’t, not tonight.”