Leaving

Why did today have to come? Why must things pass and time get old? Could someone be left alone yet not suffer?

I turned my head and kissed the cushion, relishing its heady perfume, almost too intoxicating fragrance of hyacinth – Sam’s choice would never cease to amaze me. I kissed it again, trying to map everything about it in my mind, its smell, the feel, the touch, the softness of it, the memory…

I threw my glances around me. To the finely made china on the shelves that were always carefully taken care of by Rosie, to the warm hearth with rekindled fire nigh the breaking of the dawn – Sam again, I thought. To the wooden doll Elanor always settled on the rocking chair by the window every night. (She said that was the only place it could sleep tightly.)

‘Tis all I would never see again, or touch, or coddle anymore. I would be leaving in a little while.

Nevertheless, my heart would not.

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