Letters Home, Section 2, January 1, 2000

January 1, 2000

“Good morning, Christina, I thought you might like an extra blanket,” Lisa said as she entered the room, noticing the window. “What’s this window doing open and how? You’ll catch your death of cold with this winter weather,” she exclaimed as she went to the window, closing and locking each pane. Lisa noticed the nails lying on the desk, each drawn out perfectly, each still as straight as before they entered the window. Then she returned her attention to the blankets she had carried into the room. “These are warm; they just came out of the dryer.” Lisa then looked over to the bed where Christina lay, her arms over the covers, Christina’s face without expression, “Christina,” Lisa said, her voice a bit raised and speaking quickly. “Christina?” Dropping the blankets, Lisa ran to Christina’s side, patting her arm to try to wake her while continuing to call her name.

Monica, hearing the commotion, ran into the room from down the hall where she had been reading. Putting her finger to Christina’s neck, Monica looked at Lisa and simply shook her head.

Christina was gone.

And, the room echoed with the soft laughter of two children and the spring scent of wildflowers drifted upon the air.

This work is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to situations or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.