In the days that I knew I would die, I kept to myself.
The pity, affection, love. All fake. I wanted none of that from those who called themselves my friends or family.
For the real friends that I had were all long gone. So were my dear parents and husband, there among angels, waiting for me to join them.
Soon I would be carelessly concealed in a grave, too shallow to be rightly called a grave at all.
And I would finally be among my loved ones.
(89 words)
