by Jill Craft

Created on: January 08, 2010   Last Updated: January 09, 2010

Outside the windowsill hung with icicles, the last of the snow had fallen blanketing the ground that shown glistening against the black still winter's night. A deep silence fell through the house with only the bare crackling sound of ambers in the fireplace. The tired widow shut the drapes and sat in her rocking chair that always creaked when it went back and forth that made the old woman's only companion, a tired old tom cat purr and hiss. As she rocked back and forth a dent shown in her permanent and her long bony nose began to drip from the heat being too low. As she reached for a hanky near her ginger bread snaps on a corner table with her long bony fingers the door bell rang. With a call switch she answered in an old deep crackling voice, "Who in the hell is it?" No one responded and again she muttered, "Who in the hell is it?" Still no response came. The old widow through up her arms as far as her arthritis would let her and then draped herself with her afghan. She continued to rock back and forth till she fell into a light sleep. As her dentures slowly began to fall out of her mouth the buzzer rang again. The woman startled grabbed her teeth and hit the call switch and said again in the same voice, "Who in the hell is it? Is this a joke or a little pest?" Still no answer came. She then became annoyed and grabbed a long cigarette that sat near the gingerbread snaps and tried to light it but couldn't because the butane was out. She kept with the lighter until eventually gave up and just let the cigarette hang from her mouth. With her toes curled her feet began to rock herself faster and faster until she eventually stopped to only hear the door bell again. This time she did not answer. The bell rang and rang still she did not answer. Finally the door bell ceased. Scared now she grabbed her walker and went to the door and peered out the peep hole still no one there. She slowly unlocked the door and a card lied there. She went to pick up the card slowly and quickly opened it, it read forever and always I love you, how lovely you are signed your dearest husband. She squinted and to see if what she read was real because it was her handwriting. She looked across to see appearing under the street lamp her husband at the age of twenty-three smiling as he looked down the street at an approaching car with the old woman in it at the age of twenty-two. As the car approached and stopped the apparition went in, while then at the door the old widow passed.

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