Returned

It wasn’t possible, yet there he was, standing on my doorstep. The knock, coming at such a late hour, had accelerated my heart rate. The sight of his face had stopped it. He pushed his way past, talking of traffic jams and jam donuts, his usual prattle making no sense in its ordinariness. I closed the door and watched him remove his boots.

“Forgot my key again,” he said, then saw my expression. “What’s the matter?”

“I never thought I’d see you again,” I whispered.

“I’ve only been gone a day.”

“No. It’s been a year. They said you were dead…”