By Nora Chery
Volume 2 Issue 3
January 14, 2022
Image provided by CNN
I remembered our Wedding Day and how wonderful it was. It was indeed the lantern of my adulthood. I remembered how in awe I was when I saw your beauty; your gown only served as a compliment. I knew you felt the same way when we locked eyes, brown meeting brown; I hoped no one found a key. When we both honored our vows without hesitation, your hands slipped out of my grasp and used your beringed hand to sink into your chest. You pulled out your heart for me. Your stained cupped hands extended towards me; it throbbed wildly for me, so I took it. The seat was warm and lively; I could only stare at the striking red color and functioning veins. I peered over to you, and you only stood there, still looking fabulous as ever, even with a gaping hole in your chest. You covered the hole with your hand and gave me the most loving smile. I felt as though I, to show my love, was obliged.
That was ten years ago, and we now live together in a clean, modest house. It was a Saturday morning, and I was in the living room; it was about an hour since you left. It was only an hour, yet I already missed your presence, despite having your heart with me. As an hour turned into almost several, I kept your heart close to me, it being warm filled with your blood and love for me. But this was when I found something odd; I looked down to realize the heart wasn’t beating anymore.