Letters scattered on the wobbly,wooden coffee table.

She picks up a letter, crinkled with past tears. His familiar handwriting imprinted in her mind.

Wedding photos are lined up neatly on the wedding dresser. The next frame is a little larger than the previous.

The smiles seeming like a distant memory of happier times.
The smiles, haunting.

On the wooden dining table,
Two plates of warm food are set.
Deep down she knows, that only one will eat tonight.

While They're at War sits on the wooden night table.
Just gathering dust.
It's never been flipped past page one.

On the wall
Hangs an American flag
It hangs with pride
but is a constat reminder that he's not here.

Every knock on the door, tormenting.
Every phone call, disquieting.

She stares outside the wooden, gridden window pane.
Blinking back tears.

Questioning her purpose.
Losing her mind.
Doubting her own thoughts.

Knowing that any second, her world could shatter with the ring of the phone that sits on the wooden table.