Photo by © Kelvin M. Knight

No one tells you it’s the little things that rip through your heart. Everyone is prepared for the big things. You know, the personal effects, insurance settlements, bank account adjustments, clearing out closets…those necessary motions one must endure, get through, in the wake of death.

I was not ready for the quiet. I’m not okay having the remote to myself. You were right. I do channel surf too much. The toilet seat is always down and the bed is too big.

And now this! You always hated wheat bread. Damn you! I can’t even make a sandwich without falling apart.

~kat

100 Words for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers Challenge based on the photo above by Kelvin M. Knight.