Too Late
Written by: Margaret
“Books, books, books! Nothing but goddamn books!” screamed Barbara as she grabbed a book from the top of a pile. She threw it back down with such force that it’s pages flew open like a frightened bird spreading it’s wings in haste.
Through a cloud of dust Barbara watched as something escaped the pages, flying aloft before descending to the grubby floor.
A photograph, yellowed with age, lay there amidst the falling dust.
Picking it up, Barbara held it between her thumb and index finger. Two smiling faces, full of elation, stared back at her.
Feeling her legs weaken beneath her weight, Barbara groped towards a well-worn chair, letting herself fall into it.
“You kept our wedding photo all these years?” Barbara whispered as the memories flooded her mind. “Why did you keep it? Did our marriage mean something to you after all?” her voice choked.
“We were so happy on our wedding day – a lifetime ago. A time before you started drinking. Before you lost your job. Before you moved out of our home to seclude yourself in this one-roomed den with nothing but your books and your whisky.” Barbara knew he couldn’t hear her anymore.
It was too late to look back. Too late to wonder what went wrong.
Barbara let the photograph and the memories rest with the dust. She had work to do.