I always felt as if I was I a faint scratch on a clear window, barely visible to the naked eye, only apparent when a certain light at a certain angle ...lluminates the carved scar. She was the light and I the cut, a bare empty scrape on this world. Without my wife, I felt once again invisible, and as her ashes cooled, I found myself static, neither hot nor cold, neither gaining nor shrinking. I was indifferent to passing seasons or changing fads. Hollow to others, hollow to myself, growing hollow. “It seems she doesn’t draw the line at killing children if it gets her what she is after. Near her town, I met a group of orphans who believed I was another orphaned like themselves. Some knew for sure that your great aunt killed their families trying to get to their assets to make them her own. These orphans happened to be in the right place at the right time not to die themselves. Her discomfort was marked when I mentioned those children. I’m certain that each inherits their family’s wealth.. More

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