Margaret stood on the porch, reading the crowd’s tribute. A young man she didn’t recognize handed her a coffee—black, two sugars. “Henry said you forget to eat.”
The words felt like cardboard. She deleted passed away and wrote died . Henry hated euphemisms. Just say it, Margie. Dead is dead. Then tell ‘em about the fishing. declue funeral home obits
Henry Declue, her husband of fifty-two years, had died that morning. Same heart that had carried her over every threshold, stopped mid-sentence while buttering toast. Margaret stood on the porch, reading the crowd’s tribute