The Good Widow

by Liz Fenton

I wish it were five minutes earlier. Because five minutes ago, I was just a fourth grade teacher taking care of the dirty clothes that had piled up this week while I was cleaning out my classroom and getting ready for summer hiatus. Five minutes ago, I was laughing with my sister and making plans to meet her for lunch. Five minutes ago, I wasn’t a widow.

It’s as if the world has kept spinning without me, and I’m not quite sure how to get back on the ride. Or if I even want to.