4/27/2016

The Stand-In

(Artist: Rafael Barradas; Source: WikiMedia Commons)


50 years. You’d think I’d be over it. You’d be wrong.

Oh, sure, I know it’s not my fault. I blame myself nonetheless. Silly? Self-indulgent even? Yes. And yes. But there it is.

We argued. Ironically, I don’t remember why. I do remember screaming, “I hate you,” and slamming into my bedroom.

Those were the last words I ever spoke to her.

How could a 33-year-old woman drop dead of a massive coronary? Daddy said, “Her heart was just broken, honey.” But I knew that. I broke it.

 I’ve been living her life ever since. It’s my job, after all.


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Thanks to Tara of Thin Spiral Notebook for hosting the 100 Word Challenge.

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4 comments:

  1. That is some serious guilt to be carrying around for so long. A job that should be retired.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Not to worry. This is pure fiction.

      Delete
  2. Fifty years is a long time to carry this burden!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Indeed. Yet so many people carry guilt their whole lives.

      Delete

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