Discover more from reluctant sleuth
an experiment with flash fiction
It was in the crooked lines around his grey eyes as he stepped out from the room next to my Rukshi’s.
I stood in the sterile hallway with our anniversary vase, which held limp, unworthy tulips.
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He said, “They take good care of Isobel.”
Later, I spied the woman kneeling in his front yard look up and smile as he parked.
She dead-headed his blue hydrangeas as I drove by unseen.
I saw him the next day, after I’d quietly placed a fresh arrangement on her bedside table.
I wanted to say, “I also have someone tending the garden at home.”