Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 26-08-2013

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A face appeared at the door. “Miss Cabot? He’s here.” Emmaline Cabot smiled over at Ruth, who was sitting vigil at the edge of the bed. “Em, I don’t know if this is a good idea; you’re so weak.” “Can’t get much weaker than dead,” Emmaline replied with a wry laugh, “and I’m not worried about that. I learned a lot of things in Haiti, but what’s the point of those studies if I can’t say a proper goodbye to my ex husband?” Ruth got up and opened the curtains a bit more, moving across the room to the door. “Ruth,” Emmaline called in a hoarse whisper, “remember what I told you: don’t come back in here for any reason – not until well after his screaming stops.”

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