Frozen

I stared out of the kitchen window and noticed that the daffodil heads hung broken by the unexpected cold snap; the life sap frozen in them.

I turned back to my daughter where she sat crying at the kitchen table. I had just instructed her in a similar vein as my recently deceased mother had done when my husband’s infidelity had come to my notice. I can’t cry for that woman, my erstwhile confident. Many years ago, Mum had told me not to bring shame to this family by divorcing my cheating husband. Eventually, he’d died in another woman’s arms.

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