Wave

Marsha raised her hand to wave, out of habit. But that only made her sadder. She knew her dear friend of forty years was no longer at the window waving back- a new reality Marsha couldn't accept. Only a week before, they met for their customary morning coffee and pastry, her friend loved the scones, and Marsha had the bear claw. Then late at night an aneurysm struck. Marsha's dear friend never came out of coma, and now she's gone to where Marsha can no longer sit with her in comfortable repose, talking about all things in their busy lives. Where is my friend now, Marsha wondered, knowing the destinations we desire, but knowing so little else.

(solsrandomstories.blogspot.com)