Dear Readers,

We are now featuring a “Literary Corner” column where we will showcase the
creative writings of our readers in an effort to add a little love, a bit of make believe and a dash of dreamlike imagination to the mix. Please submit your
original short stories or poetic contributions (maximum 500 word count) to
editor@lifestylesafter50.com for consideration. The deadline is the 15th of each
month. We reserve the right to edit for length, clarity, etc.

The author of this month’s winning entry will receive two tickets to a concert at
the Florida Strawberry Festival. Please submit your name, address, and phone
number with your article.

Let it Ring

by Ann Potter, Venice, Florida
Tom walked into the bedroom carefully carrying her steaming cup of coffee. It
was his morning ritual now that he was retired. He was used to rising early so he
always made the coffee and enjoyed a cup while reading the morning paper.

She enjoyed sleeping in after years of working and raising kids. To be able to just
wake up without an alarm clock, stretch out in bed, sip that hot morning cup of Joe,
and steal the time of day.Those were moments to be relished.

As soon as he walked in, he could tell. He set the cup down and walked over to
her side of the bed. She was laying there with her eyes closed looking as peaceful as
he had ever seen her. She seemed to glow.

His heart was so full of love for her. He took her hand and pulled up a chair next
to the bed. A million thoughts were racing through his head. He needed to call the
kids, the neighbors, their friends. But he just sat there, holding her hand. It was still
warm, but he could feel the temperature changing.

Did it happen as he sat in the kitchen drinking his own coffee and savoring
his toasted English muffin drenched in honey butter? Or did it take place during
the night? If so, how could he not notice when he woke? She obviously didn’t
struggle; her face and body were in such a peaceful state. He sat there with her, barely
hearing the phone ring in the other room.

It was then the perfume of marigolds drifted in and around him, so poignant that
he got up to look to see if someone had come in with flowers. No one was there but
him. He kept studying her face to see where she went. Did she send this fragrance to
him for a reason?

A light mist seemed to emanate from her body. He rubbed his eyes but the vapor
was still rising when he looked again. The last bit of energy was leaving her body.

He knew then she was truly gone. Tears streamed down his face as he silently
wept for the loss of the love of his life. The ringing phone brought him out of his grief
for a moment.

He chose to just let it ring.


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