Chipped and Ragged

Shortly after the murders, I couldn’t bare the thought of walking into that house, so I put it on the market. I can say from experience it takes two years to sell a house where someone was killed. Now I longed just to walk around the old house, to feel the smooth banister under my hands, to light a fire in the dining room and hear Jonas swear because he can’t get the flue open. I dreamed of playing a Billy Holiday record on the Victrola that used to stand in the living room and dancing with Jonas to prepare for our wedding dance. Watching the house slide past the passenger window drew tears. I quietly wiped the tears away hopeful Jon had not seen them fall.

I was unable to look at Jon or the street. I focused on my hands. My hands seemed to be at least forty years older than the rest of me. The nails were chipped and ragged.