Fragment of a Story

She thanked friends and family for the October anniversary wishes, never knowing
It would be their last. He would die the next August. You just can never know, when
your time is expired. You are just ash from the fires. How do you know when your
days are numbered or the fragility of your slumbers?

She burned with an agile agony. There was a strange ease to the excruciating days.
Despite them pounding through her veins. To the borderline of sane. Despair dismantling
the hostage of her brain. As she slumped against his aging grave.

And there, the dandelion yellow bulging chrysanthemums. Made her feel just a little
less numb........