Watch the Sun Set

Every evening Kelly MacNair brewed a cup of coffee and sat in the left of the two easy chairs in the living room. She sat, she sipped and she watched the sun set. She never sat in the right chair. It was her husband's. He had been gone six months. And yet, Kelly kept their routine. The stain on the carpet had turned a rusty brown. His last coffee cup on the counter was growing mold.

It isn't healthy, her friends said.

She should move on with her life, make a change, her family said.

Two days ago, after four hours with her mother, and one long unending lecture about moving forward, Kelly had finally agreed to see a few houses. Houses free from the memories of the grisly ending of her husband's life.

Today, she sat in her chair waiting. A knock sounded on her door.

"I have several houses for you to look at today. Are you ready?" Elijah Park was the real estate agent her mother had hired. Strands of white hair were combed over his head. His dark brown eyes were friendly. She nodded.

The first house was tall and narrow. There were three floors. Tulips waved to her from the front garden. Elijah pointed out the tall windows, the hardwood floors and the three bathrooms.

"The bedrooms are too small," she said.

"Each of them can fit a double or even a queen plus a dresser - "

"No. They're too small."

Elijah paused, smiled. "Alright. On to the next one."

The second house was a two-storey detached with a double garage. Each of the three bedrooms had enough room for a bed, desk, lounge chair, dresser, wardrobe and anything else a person might want to add.

Elijah looked at Kelly, expecting to see a smile. Instead she frowned.

"The kitchen is closed off from the dining room and the living room. It's too compartmentalized."

"But the bedrooms - "

"I don't want to be closed off from the rest of the house. It needs to be more open-concept."

"Of course," he smiled.

The third house wasn't closed off. It was entirely open.

"What is this?" Kelly wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It's one big space. You can't tell where one room ends and the other begins."

"The placement of furniture can - "

"There's no privacy, no separation at all. No." She turned on her heel and left.

The fourth house didn't have enough natural light. The fifth was too close to the highway.

"The cars are too loud," she said.

The sixth house had a funny smell. The seventh was too modern. "Look at all this glass and concrete. It's too impersonal."

She didn't like the neighbourhood of the eighth house.

In the ninth house, Kelly was quiet. As they walked through, she had no complaints. It was a semi-open concept. The bedrooms were large. There were hardwood and carpeted floors. It was in a quiet neighbourhood, had lots of natural light and no funny smells.

They arrived back at the entryway. Kelly surveyed the main floor silently. It was perfect. It was everything she had asked for.

"Well?" prompted Elijah.

She thought about her own home. The carpet that was stained with her husband's blood. His moldy coffee mug sitting where he had left it that last morning. His clothes still hanging in the closet gathering dust.

She looked at this home. It was clean, new. A fresh start. It was empty and waiting to be filled with new memories.

She shook her head.

"No." She stepped back. "Something is missing."

And she left.

She went home.

She brewed a cup of coffee. She sat in her chair. The chair next to his. She ignored the rusty stain on the floor. She sipped her coffee and watched the sun set.