The kitchen remained silent. Once a place of aromatic enlightenment, you could almost smell his presence. The egg shells still glossy and crisp lay perched on the top layer of the mini compost jar centered on the window sill.
His breakfast awoke her every morning. His hands holding the thin wooden tray always carried upstairs in a thoughtful fashion. Her smile was sweeter than the maple syrup on her pancakes. His nod complimented.
Not an entire day had passed since he left the kitchen of life and she began to forget. Her mind had wandered farther than a memory could last. Even eternity could not contain her grief.
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