Maggie's Grave

by David Sodergren

She still missed him every day, probably would forever. Whenever she got a new phone, she always ensured his mobile number was transferred over. It was silly, she knew. It’s not like he was going to call anytime soon. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to delete it.

It was a glimpse, but that glimpse was enough to haunt a thousand lifetimes.

You may have washed the blood from your hands, but the stench of hypocrisy lingers a long, long time.’

Perhaps one day she would forget it entirely, and lie alone in a care home, senile and forsaken and blissfully unencumbered by the burden of memory.

Well, damn

It struck her that modern life was people talking, talking, talking, and no one really listening. She was as guilty of it as anyone.