Word Count: 472
They brought him home in a large plastic bag, assured me the pieces were all there. They said they were very sorry and perhaps I could still put the pieces back together.
I told them I didn’t think so.
“Well, you could try…” they suggested. As if I weren’t a good wife not to consider it.
“Is there no place you could bring him?” I asked.
“Most of the homes are closed down. Out of business, you know…”
But surely someone would take him?”
“Ma’am, we tried everywhere. The only places left open that will are out of the price range you gave us.”
This was true. I certainly thought that $200,000 was gouging.
“Where do you want him?” they asked.
I looked around the small kitchen. I hadn’t planned ahead. Accidental death comes too quickly for that. I only had a day to make whatever arrangements I could. I didn’t even have time to get used to the fact he was gone. It’s too fast a world these days. Too fast.
“I guess in the back hall,” I said, and led them through the kitchen to the door that opened to an enclosed porch. The two men started to drag the bag then realized it might be insensitive. With a double groan, they picked it up and carried Ed through the door. I looked at the red streaks on the kitchen tiles. I looked up at them.
“Sorry,” they said. “Would you sign here, please?’
“What is it?”
“Just to show he’s been delivered,” said one. “A receipt,” said the other.
I didn’t really know what to do so I made myself a cup of tea. I sighed. Poor Ed. We’d only been married a year and I had already realized we’d made a mistake.
I went out to the back hall and opened the bag. From the outside of the bag, it looked about the size he would be. I saw fingers. I reached in and pulled out an arm.
It was a right arm, and though Ed and I weren’t as close anymore, it didn’t look like his. Thin, dry, the dark hair flat and long on the pale bluish skin. I set it aside on the floor and searched for the other.
Ed and I were childhood sweethearts but we married without testing ourselves or each other. I think if we’d dated a few others we likely would not have married each other. We’d been considering separation and now I felt terrible.
I found it, his left arm, and pulled it out of the bag. His wedding band was still on his finger. We’d picked them out together and they matched. I wrapped my own fingers around his. The gold rings shone in the light. Tears welled up and suddenly it all hit me. Hit me hard.
