Echoes of Life

Sarah sat on the wooden swing, seething, her stomach churning, burning with hatred, her body tense from bitter resentment for this man, her husband, as she watched him wander aimlessly about her garden. She had felt loathing, repulsion and contempt for him on many occasions throughout the years, but this time he had gone too far; he must be stopped. She followed his movements with narrowed eyes, watching him as a leopard watches its prey before the kill, curling her lips in disgust, despising this man who had inflicted so much pain on herself and had done such harm to her son, and determined in that instant, he would not leave her garden alive. She studied his handsome face, searching for a hint of comprehension, but there was none. The Alzheimer, dementia, craziness, or whatever it was the doctors were calling it these days had softened his features so he resembled the man she remembered from so long ago, tall, slender, thick black hair laced with silvery waves, deep blue eyes, now vacant, and a face so childlike it made her pause. Her resolve began to soften. No! She must remove this cancer from her life. Pushing compassion aside, resurrecting memories she’d thought long dead, memories of putrid ghosts, euphoric at the chance to, once again, bring her shame and heartache, she allowed the images of betrayal and lies to march through her mind’s eye. She experienced again the repulsion, disillusionment and disgust she’d felt then, venom dripped from her heart and she felt hate sweep over her anew; John was in her garden. She willed the rapid beating of her heart to slow and asked God to forgive her for what she was about to do. In the few minutes she had before she did what had to be done, she lay her head against the back of the wooden swing, closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander back to the distant past when she thought life would be simply, well, simple ...