The definition of good memories, are just that … good. And yet, it’s those very memories dragging Meaghan into the depths of an abysmal place where time seems to betray any hope of a future. She lost her husband, her love, but he exists in a place called consciousness. And behind a window is a memory.
She reaches, touches the pane, whispers, “Please, come home….”
There is no answer.
“Miss, are you all right?”
“Yes, I … I, I was just looking at the dress in the window.”
“It’s cruel, isn’t it?”
“The prices for such beauty. How the things we cannot have taunt us.”
“Oh, um, yes. I guess.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll find the man worthy of that dress. Oh, sweetie, don’t cry. Life can be so cruel….”