“I heard it. I’m sure.”
“You must be dreaming. Or it could have just been the wind.” You laugh and take a sip of your coffee.
I stare at you, expressionless.
“Yes, it must have been the wind….”
“I saw it. I’m sure.”
“Have you started hallucinating now? It must have been a trick of your eyes.” You shake your head and drink your coffee.
I sigh, not sure of myself.
“Yes, it must have been a trick of my eyes….”
“I’m not feeling fine….I…I….think we should call a doctor.”
I look at you, a bewildered expression on my face. I throw my head back and laugh.
“Oh! I see. You are teasing me aren’t you? Fine. I’ll try not to hear fictitious laughter or see random scribbling on our window. “
You look at me incredulously. Your face suddenly contorts in pain.
I ignore you. You are faking it, aren’t you?
“Pl…..plea….plea…” You die.
It has been just two days since you died. A month since I stopped making your coffee for you.
But the voices. They have stopped. And I don’t “see” things anymore.
I look at your photo.
“Can you explain this, dear?”