By Angie Dent
He pressed send. The photo of his disastrous chicken risotto zoomed into cyberspace. ‘Not sure even you’d eat this!’ he added, plus two laughing emojis.
The next morning he cautiously checked again. No reply. He sent a good morning GIF of a cute kitten and the usual ‘Love you’ and purple heart.
After a busy day back at work, he checked again. Nothing. Messaging ‘Miss you xx,’ he set off for his first appointment.
Awkwardly perched on the grief counselor’s hard leather chair, he felt the weight of his phone in his pocket. He pondered whether to mention his one-sided conversations.
I thought this was a touching story. I still talk to those who are dead but I usually do this in dreams and reveries.
A poignant tale. I enjoyed reading this.
Touching story.. narrated well..
This is a thought-provoking tale, very sad. We say ‘bereavement counsellor’ in England, and because the word ‘grief’ has connotations of hassle/trouble (like ‘stop giving me grief’), there wasn’t in my mind an immediate link to a death. It was only when I read a feedback comment that it made perfect sense.
Poignant and sad and so true for many of us who have lost loved ones.
Well done, Angie.
Very moving?
Splendid. I got wet eyes.