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slobbery kisses on her face.
Music calms the soul, they once said. It had had the op-
posite effect on her; she was calm, she was fine, she was numb.
Music was not a solace for her anymore. Music brought up feel-
ings and commotion—wet streaked down her face and off her
chin. Music was hard. The first week she couldn’t do music at all.
Everything reminded her of him. His eyes; his smile; his laugh;
his warmth; his love. Life dragged on.
At first, people called friends came by to offer food and
hugs and advice. That was over now. She had lost a few people,
like Christie (who had always had a sort of crush on him), and
Jake and Savannah (who felt they had to choose sides and had
known him since college), but Mattie had stuck with her. Mattie
was the best. (She had always been jealous of Mattie’s red hair.)
She visited when she could, which was often in the begin-
ning, but as time when on even she had things to do, and work
and taxes. Now it was Zipper who pushed her out of bed when
she did not want to stand for fear of finding herself empty inside.
Her boss had gathered, from her sudden change in behavior,
unkempt hair (most unusual!), and inability to say words aloud
to describe what had happened, that a family death had occurred.
He gave her a long break off; he did not want to lose his best
employee. So, she was returning to work on Monday.
For some reason, she had this idea of herself. She was help-
less, dependent. See what she became without him? Lonely, and
empty. She was a tiny shell overborne with water, then empty,
and then fully encompassed again. The pulsing of warmth and
cool air. Woosh. Woosh. Woosh. Steady breathing, in and out. In
and out. She glanced at Zipper, sleeping peacefully on her bed.
Creeping out, she did not stir. Outside, the cool air bit around her
jacket, and her lack of gloves. She stopped. She thought—the
stars, waiting every night to show her. Freedom.
No, she was not helpless, dependent, without him. She took
a deep breath of the cool night air. That was the person she was

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