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PHOTO PROMPT © Dawn Miller
When the Grim Reaper Calls.
I felt a headache and my vision blurred as blood dripped onto the desk.
My mind flew back in time and raced towards a barn, a place I don’t know.
Memories: mother, a dog, a swing, school, my navy days, Doreen, the children growing. A jumble of pictures, smiles and laughter, like a collage of fifty years flashing past.
Guilt crept up my spine with so much to repent and ask forgiveness for the way I treated my sick wife. Overindulgence with her insurance money.
What’s waiting in the barn? Is it Heaven or Hell?
Will Doreen be there?
James McEwan 