And when she climbed the steep stairs, she could see that the movers had done exactly as she asked, consigning her entire past to this hidden floor. On the far wall, away from the pool of light that shone through the sky light, stood a stack of boxes, each labelled by her with a different colour, each containing precious things from a different room: from the sitting room where she sat with him when he first came back to her, from the kitchen where she prepared his coffee with beans bought for him from the Algerian coffee shop, from the bathroom where she washed him and inspected him and cleaned his wounds each time he came back to her, from the bedroom where she watched over him and protected him from his memories and fears and where he died in her arms. And where, as he died, he taught her how to love.
Extract from Love – a short story © Howard Evans 2020
LOVE SEX DEATH, a collection of short stories by Howard Evans available from Amazon or direct from the author. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Love-Sex-Death/dp/1916201229