His steps were slow, almost a shuffle. Even the most basic actions required concentration. He was often grateful for the small house.
He made it to the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee that would last a couple of hours before he brewed another. It kept him awake, allowing him to live the day on his own terms and not fall asleep every time he sat down. He didn't care much his trousers were stained with things that never made it to his mouth, a menu of meals past.
He turned on a stove burner and heated his wife's iron skillet—God rest her soul. He cracked two eggs into the pan and made his way to the toaster in just enough time to get back to the stove and turn off the burner. He had known for a while now how to time things at his pace. He put the eggs on a plate and got the toast slightly burnt but he would scrape some of it off. His neighbor gave him a jar of peach jam, which he used sparingly to make it last.
By the time he sat down and began to eat, he was already tired, but the wait was worth it. One more cup of coffee and the other half of a partially smoked cigarette completed his first meal of the day—and maybe his last if the caffeine didn't work. He made his way to the sink and washed his plate and wiped out the iron pan the way she showed him God rest her soul.
Time didn't matter to him anymore. He just let his growling stomach tell him when to eat. He went to the kitchen window and watered her favorite plant, which he somehow managed to keep alive. He figured it was her doing, and he smiled.
He managed to get through most of his day as daylight faded and the house got dark. He turned on a small light that lit the way upstairs, looking at the pictures of the family they hung on the wall from the bottom to the top. Hed stop on every step remembering when all of them were taken during the happiest times of his life.
He sat on the edge of their bed, one they had shared for sixty-seven years, and his tears began to flow. Lying in that bed, he thought of her, and how deeply he loved her, hoping someday soon, they would reunite for eternity.
But until that day, he would go through the motions of cooking eggs in her iron skillet, watering her favorite plant, and hoping she didn't see him smoking. God rest her soul.
Mike 2024
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