Once, there was a moment when I caught a glimpse of a woman who had everything. She stood tall. Seemingly proud. Though she had no airs, she was poised and elegant. No slouching, and every limb just oozed grace. She was notably educated, for every word she spoke was sophisticated. There were no errors or slurs, with perfect timing throughout the conversation. There was a subtle hint of a smile that she seemed almost afraid for you to notice. As she started to turn in my direction, her eyes were profoundly lost, deep in a world of fear of what I could not say. Only seconds later, she dashed away. In the spot where she stood, there was the smallest puddle of what must have been her tears atop a pile of torn-up paper. Curiosity got the better of me, and I snatched up the papers and pieced them together to find a telegram stating that her husband had been killed in transit to meet her here at the train station. Once, there was a moment when I caught a glimpse of a woman who had everything. But in that moment, everything she thought she had quickly slipped through her fingers, leaving her feeling she had nothing. Now, she would return to the home meant for them together, but now she was alone.

Everything and Nothing at All© written by Felina Silver

Copyright© April 2020, November 2023