Work Text:
Ethel shot out of bed, sweating. A loud crash echoed through her small town-house. A shadow drifted in the corner of her eye, fleeing out her bedroom door.
Was she seeing someone, or was it too early in the morning?
Her eyes drifted to the alarm clock. 2:48 AM.
She already couldn't fall asleep well last night–so she definitely wouldn't be able to now. She quickly decided that if her mind kept lingering on the shadow that was in her room just a few moments ago, she would investigate.
Stepping out of her room, nothing was out of place. Beams of soft moonlight cascaded onto the carpet floors through the windows. Along the walls, paintings of her late wife hung on the wall, the moon’s gaze onto them made her as pretty as the day she lost her.
She remembers that day like it was yesterday–yet she wishes it never happened at all.
A slow creaking beyond the hallway she was standing in made her pause, then she slowly followed where it led to.
A shadow? Not just a shadow–but her shadow.
She quickly shuffled out the door, following a shadow that seemed to mirror her appearance. She then noticed when she looked down to grab shoes, that her dark outline that was supposed to be in front of her, was gone.
She then promptly ignored it, it was probably behind her, and adding it to this situation was just going to make her heart race faster.
As soon as she realized she could feel the grass touching her ankles, she realized that she wasn't in her front yard anymore–but her garden. Small lilies covered the walkway, with carnations framing the decorations that were settled in the grass.
She then saw her shadow again–but it wasn't alone. Her shadow was seated on a two person bench, a bouquet of chrysanthemums sat propped up against the arm of the bench.
The second shadow had a familiar figure–not just familiar–she knew whose shadow it was.
Her breath quickened, how is she here? She was there when she spoke for the last time. She had even arranged the funeral for her!
But seeing her shadow with one who she loved deeply cracked a fond smile out of her.
At least one part of her was still holding on to her.