Widower's Woes Compounded by Elizabeth Emerald Artwork by avmurray at FanArtReview.com |
I ran into George this afternoon, whilst meandering the town common. George's wife, I joked with George about how relieved I was that day, when they chanced upon me bagging trash in the woods. I took note of their names; I needed witnesses in the event I were to be arrested for dumping the trash I'd collected: I'd left four bursting triple-ply Hefty Bags by the roadside. (Officer, Bonnie and Clyde will vouch for me.) George said it sucks being alone, besides which, he's had to contend with chores, that to Bonnie were pleasures: bird-feeding and plant-tending. He can't stand the racket of the sparrows, peck-peck-pecking, fighting one another for the seeds. The feeder, attached by suction cups to the window, is filthy with their droppings.They foul, and crash into, the glass. He spends two hours a week watering Bonnie's plants. The ficus tree is monstrous; now nearly nine feet tall, since Bonnie's death it's encroached upon the ceiling. Try as he might to water judiciously, often as not the excess trickles down the soil and puddles in the trays to the point of overflow, obliging him to mop the floor. I commiserated; we chuckled. As we parted, I thanked George for inspiring today's story.
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