Dark Water by Matthew A. Hamilton

The last time I saw my wife she was on the porch reading a book. Her bare toes scrapped across the wooden floor. The sound of the rocking chair wrapped around the enclosed silence of my eyes. I couldn’t help but stare at her. She had beautiful tan skin, yellow haired curls.

I kissed her forehead. “See you in a few days,” I said.
 

“Love you,” she said.” I knew she didn’t want me to go. Something was wrong, but she wouldn’t tell me. In retrospect, I should have pressed the issue. Instead, I smiled. “Me, too,” I said. 

Now she is only in my dreams. Yesterday I ran my hand across her stone house. I spelled her name with my fingers. I lay in the cool of her soft mound. I told her that I’ll sleep with her for eternity. I heard her voice speak to me through the roses. 

I’ll never forget the day I returned. Mom said that her car flew off the bridge. Cause of death was drowning.
    

I screamed into her arms. She gently pulled me away. “There’s something else,” she said.

I wiped my eyes, sniffled. “What?” I asked.

 “Did— 
She hesitated. “Did you know she had cancer?”

“No, I said. Are they calling it a suicide, then? How long did she have?”

“Yes, she said. She put her arms around me, held me like only a mother can.

“Six months. Son, I’m so sorry. I loved her like my own daughter.”    

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7 Comments

Filed under Matthew A. Hamilton

7 responses to “Dark Water by Matthew A. Hamilton

  1. So sad, but I love the opening, the relationship and love that passes in this normal scene before he leaves. Nice one, Matthew.

  2. randalhoule

    good story. lots of movement emotionally.

  3. Sad. Small decisions turn fateful so often without us knowing until it’s too late.

  4. >Yesterday I ran my hand across her stone house. <
    I *LOVE* that line. Just beautiful.

  5. So sad on many levels, the sadness exacerbated by the obvious love they feel for each other, and his anguish. Makes me wonder why she hadn’t told him. Almost wrenched a tear from me . . .

  6. So sad… but also makes me question the love, why she didn’t tell him. Why the mother didn’t tell him. Very thought provoking. Well-written. Peace…

  7. Pingback: Week #19 – The Last Time « 52|250 A Year of Flash

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