Blinds

The framed photograph of my husband stood at the very corner of my desk. It smiled at me and tried its hardest to clear the rain clouds of my cubicle. I looked at it with joy from his smile but with pain in my heart knowing that the man I loved was no longer with me. I looked down at my fingers typing away, not thinking about what they were writing. Some numbers maybe, a few commas thrown in the mix.

The venetian blinds to my left were slanted having been broken by Peter last summer in a fit of frustration. I looked back at my husband on my desk. I missed him and was trying to think of a way to somehow let him know. I knew that couldn’t happen, but it distracted me from the fact that Mr. Pinsetty was on his way down the hall. There was no doubt he was going to nag me about preparing for the corporate meeting ahead.


“It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.”

“Yes I know, I’m ready.”

“Don’t forget, 3 p.m.”
He turned and created a small commotion. There was a crisp shatter on the floor.
“Oh sorry about that, I’ll tell Rick to buy you a new frame…”
And on he walked.





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