“He home yet? I told him not to… didn’t need that ice cream.” It’s astounding how obstinately her mind clings to certain things and lets the rest float away. I squeeze my eyes shut, but silent, hot tears scorch my face. That damn ice cream. That night is suffused with could’ve beens and never should’ves, the hours that her mind circles over and over again searching for a different outcome. One where the love of her life is here. That night is a door that stays cracked open; one that deprived her of one last kiss. Of a final farewell. And in the fog of her memories, that door remains ajar.
