The Final Present
by Lynn S. M.
WHAM warning: This is *not* a happy story.
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My husband died last week.
Today, I stare at his final birthday present for me. About a month ago, I first saw it peeking through the clothes piled on his closet floor.
Our marriage lasted through the decades in part by our being selective in what we chose to see. If his closet was messy, that was his choice. And if he chose to hide a present there… well, who was I to comment?
My eyes are moist as I undo the ribbon on the last present he would ever buy me.
