In Memoriam

by Alice Winn

“I haven’t had a compliment from you in about three months. I know, because I always write them down and put them in a drawer.”

“I don’t mind you making me uncomfortable, Elly,” said Gaunt softly.

“Henry!” cried Ellwood. Poor Elly, he thought, as he fell. It’s so much harder to be left behind.

My dearest, darling Sidney, There was nothing else. Only dead white paper, blank and meaningless. A comma, followed by nothing. Death summed up by grammar. “Where’s the rest of it?” said Ellwood, his voice rising unpredictably. “That’s all,” said Hayes. “I didn’t think to give it to you, until you said that he’d never called you that.”

He didn’t tell Gaunt what had happened to his precious German cousin. Let Gaunt find out for himself, since he was impervious to death.

Gaunt ran his fingers through Ellwood’s hair, and Ellwood stirred slightly. “Is it morning?” he mumbled. “Mhm,” said Gaunt. “Appalling development,” said Ellwood into his pillow.