Mending Hearts

Olivia’s heart is broken since her husband Stan’s death. His cancer so brutal, she’d weep alone in the bathroom. Her spirits lift slightly when her son, his wife, and their daughter visit, but when they leave it’s difficult to be alone. One morning Olivia is awakened by stomping on the stairs. She regrets giving her son the spare key. The bedroom door bursts open and her granddaughter Molly is holding a white and brown spotted purring kitten. “Grandma, this is your new husband,” little Molly says. “Can you name him Stan like grandpa,” she asks. Some hearts can be mended.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Ajar

“Time sure flies. Tomorrow is already his Big Truthful Day.”

“I’m glad we won’t have to lie to him anymore.”

“It wasn’t really lying – rather hiding the truth.”

“What shall we tell him first? About Santa or the Easter Bunny?”

“Wouldn’t you think he already knows this stuff? Probably a few of his classmates must have told.”

“Then we’ll tell him we’re not his real parents and that he’s hereditarily predestined to be offered to the gods.”

Both giggle inaudiblely.

“Ssssh… wait… did you hear that?”

“No. You are imagining things.”

“Perhaps. Are you sure you closed his bedroom door?”

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys