A Death in the Family

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A Death in the Family

Strangely death and beauty are often companions. Closed lids hid the milky cataracts of his decayed old age. Pearl-pink pads decorated delicately curled feet. I placed a cheek on his curved back and felt the last of his fur-wrapped warmth.

The grave my husband dug on that dark January night made criminals of us all. No, not my granny, I quipped to a neighbour. Tears flowed freely as we said goodbye and buried the box, securing the lid against foxes.

Alone at last; silent house. I open the freezer, reach deep for the wrapped package and cradle the frozen form in aching arms.

M J Lewis 2017

Welcome to the world of Friday Flash Fiction, hosted by the talented writer Rochelle. Thanks as ever to our seemingly tireless host and also to Liz Young for the photo.

The above is partly true – I’ll leave you to decide what is fiction and what is imagination! Thanks to all who visit and especially those who stay and comment.

2014-05-04 16.17.31

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15 thoughts on “A Death in the Family

  1. Dear Miranda,

    When my husband found my dear calico dead behind the couch, he stuck her body in the freezer until we could bury her. I refused to open the freezer until we did. Sorry for your loss, whoever thinks pets are merely animals has never been owned by one.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 2 people

    • Indeed, our cat owned all the family and also worked for us as a guard cat – sitting outside the house with a view up and down the street – until his last illness. I slept well knowing he was out there on duty (and was the bulkiest cat in the neighbourhood!). We all miss him, especially now in the spring if I’m out in the garden – the garden was really his.

      Liked by 1 person

    • I would like to say that the freezer bit is pure fiction! No packages lurk deep inside my freezer…
      Archie was kept in a box for about 24 hours as it was too dark to dig a deep fox-safe hole when we brought him home from the last trip to the vet. I did open his cardboard coffin and look at him in sadness and fascination the next day, but he was then buried under a cherry tree in my front garden. (The neighbour turned up while we were three of us gathered round, my husband wielding a spade, and whilst I explained what was happening I had the strange sensation of laughing as tears rolled down my face.) I would like to be able to say never once was taxidermy mentioned, but I’m afraid that was considered by one member of the family and vetoed by me!

      Like

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