The corpse lies here in the silent house, reproaching me with its presence. The exact time of its demise so hard to pinpoint. Its death throes seemed to last forever. “I died from neglect.” It accuses me wordlessly. And though I know that I was not the only one to blame I can’t help wondering if I could have done more to prevent the final, irrevocable outcome.
NO! I did my best! I nursed the ailing patient until my bones ached and my heart grew weary from the effort, performing the kiss of life, as best I could, on numerous occasions; fighting to breathe animation into the doomed and dying creature.; refusing to recognize that its feeble movements and lackluster response mocked the futility of my efforts.
It has been here now for much too long. A pale accusation, pointing judgemental fingers at my beleagured soul. The albatross of my marriage bears me to the ground. Its deadweight threatening to crush my soul.
I am imprisoned by the bars of my wedding vows but just lately the stench of decay, filling my nostrils and stinging my eyes with tears of remorse, has become unbearable.
The burial is long overdue.
Time to call in the undertakers.