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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=389264" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Urn....</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">He finally pulled in the drive.<br>Another endless night at work.<br>Exhausted, he turned off the car, <br>and stumbled for the back door.<br>The neighborhood cat rubbed<br>against his legs as he fumbled<br>for the key.<br>As he opened the door, he noticed<br>that the light over the sink was on.<br>Shaking his head, he shrugged, and set<br>down his lunchbox.<br>He reached in the cupboard for the<br>bottle and a glass. He poured a small<br>shot, and hesitated for a moment.<br>He could hear the night just outside<br>the window. Something inside of <br>him let down. He kicked back the shot, <br>and headed for the bathroom.<br>A quick shower, and he found his way<br>to the bedroom. Lying naked on the <br>bed, he lit a smoke, trying not to think.<br>He could hear the ticking of the clock in<br>the hallway. He put out the cigarette, and<br>dozed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He awakened to the scent of her perfume.<br>He heard her voice, whispering, 'be still'.<br>He felt the presence of her body in the bed.<br>Her long hair draped across his face. He<br>felt her on top of him, her heat and her desire.<br>He raised his face to kiss her....<br>And then she was gone! Startled, he groped<br>at the bed, clutching air. He sat up and flipped<br>on the lamp.<br>The room was empty. A few crumpled dirty<br>clothes in the floor. The book he'd been reading<br>on the nightstand. But no sign of her! <br>His hands shaking, he lit a smoke, and blinked.<br>He looked around the room again.<br>Every nook, every cranny, every crack in the paint.<br>Finally, his eyes fixed on her dresser.<br>A picture of her on their wedding day. A half empty<br>bottle of her favorite perfume. And the urn.... the<br>urn, with her wedding ring lying on the base.<br>He flipped off the lamp, and wept.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eric+Cockrell">Eric Cockrell</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=389264" data-title="The Urn.... de Eric Cockrell" data-description="He finally pulled in the drive. Another endless night at work. Exhausted, he turned off the car, and stumbled for the back door. The neighborhood cat rubbed against his legs as he fumbled for the key. As he opened the door, he noticed that the li..."></div> </div> </div>
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