the widow

The Widow


The man on the trolley was fully dressed he had died in
the street and brought in to the hospital; his face at ease
wasn’t peace but nothingness, a story yet to be invented.
His wife had arrived, looked at his face and said:
“a good man always saved money for the day he could
retire, he had so many plans, today he went to cash his
first pension check.” Her life hadn’t be easy, always
watching the pennies and it struck her that now she could
go buy a new dress, coat and shoes, for the first time in
years; but would she? After years of saving money it had
become a habit hard to brake, and then the children, grown
up now, but they would come wanting money. “You cheep
bastard, she murmured angrily, you made my life a misery
and when no one looked slapped his face… hard.