He had promised her that he’d live until his 90th.
The doctor sighed, lowered his head and closed the front door behind him.
Slowly, she climbed back upstairs and entered their bedroom of seventy years.
Her lips felt the cold of his forehead.
‘You promised not to die. You promised.’
Picking up the present from the bed, she could feel the warmth of her own tears.
One drop splashed onto the wrapping paper.
The receipt was still lying in her purse
Originally published: 81 Word Anthology
A copy of the book can be purchased here.
