Short Stories

Widow on the Lake

A widow pushed herself from the dock. The rowboat glided away from the shore and she grabbed the oars to straighten out. The boat carried her through the morning fog until she was enveloped. She caught her breath as she pulled the oars out of the water.

It was silent. The water calmed and held the rowboat in place in the dead center of the lake. The widow folded her hands in her lap as she sat there alone.

"Harold, what did you want to show me this time?" Her hoarse voice was met with silence. "Oh alright, you don't have to make a big fuss over it."

The widow leaned over the side of the boat to catch her reflection in the water. "Harold, you've gotten thinner, have you been eating well?" She sighed. "You've never quite learned to take care of yourself, now isn't that right?" Shaking her head disapprovingly. She turned her attention back to the water and her late husband smiled up at her. A smile crept across her face as well.

The morning went on, the fog eventually cleared. The rowboat slowly drifted its way back to shore with the widow nowhere in sight.