Sarah sat shoulders slumped as the kitchen rocker
Squeaked against the wooden floor
Smells paraded in front of her
Onions sizzled in the heavy black skillet
Complimented by the seasoned liver as it
Quickly bloodied the flour while the gravy formed
Would the memories devour her?
Lawrence leaped before her like a hologram
His Buddha face slightly smiling
“I’m going for hamburger and French fries”
His voice was playful even in demands
He dribbled the ball, spun, snatched the keys from the hook,
Opened and slammed the door and bounded down the stairs
And she turned to the stove never to see him alive again.