Casket

Tom took a deep breath and slowly walked toward the casket. A tear trickled down his cheek as he gazed at his wife’s body.

Della looked as if she was asleep. Her red hair perfectly framed her face. The blue lipstick had always been her favorite. Tom bought her the red sweater, she had on, last Christmas. Della wore it anytime they had date night.

Tom shut his eyes to say a silent prayer, and to give thanks for the five years they had together. He went to the front of the main room and sat on the couch. A woman sat beside him.

She leaned over a whispered in his ear, “I got the tickets.”

He nodded, “She went peacefully. Didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Good,” she put a hand on his knee. “I booked the Honeymoon suit.”