Till Death was too Short

Till Death was to Short


         Open casket drenched with embalming chemicals leaked fumes through wide French doors. Herman hated everything about that country except the lifeless body dressed by pale emotionless men adapted to refrigerator climates. They should have died together in their blue Cutlass Ciera; instead, his left leg needed amputation and her right arm a plastic prosthetic replacement. Both lived happily handicapped many years until Marlene received bad news; she would be facing cancer again. This time it was terminal; fighting seemed pointless but every second alive looking into those big brown eyes made struggling blissful.
         Crying widower, now prays, for quick ending.






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