Tell Me How This Ends

by Jo Leevers

Last words, though . . .’ Audrey sighs. ‘Not always what people expect.’ Audrey pauses, laces her fingers together and leans across the desk. ‘One man just recited betting odds to his assembled family. Another lady sat straight up in bed and said, “I never loved him.” Caused all manner of speculation and upset, that did.

Anyway, that’s what delving for old memories feels like – stretching her fingers as far as she can to touch the earliest, happiest ones, but she can’t find them. Each time she tries, her fingers close on something rotten and bad that’s closer to the surface.

These days, even her happy memories feel tainted by what came later or what was simmering under the surface all along.

If she could wink, this would be the time to do it, but the last time she tried someone asked if she had something in her eye.