Mary Cavanaugh brushed the red hair from hey eyes, glanced at the big blue circle on her calendar, and allowed herself a smile. Only two more days.
It had been arduous with six kids, but she knew life was about to change dramatically. Seven years, the insurance company had told her, and if there’s still no sign of your husband, the life insurance money would be released.
Five-year-old Jimmy rushed inside breaking Mary’s silent celebration, words spilling out as he sprinted across the kitchen, “Mom, Mom, I found Dad’s watch, under the dirt in your garden, wanna see it?”
Mary Cavanaugh ran her hand through her disheveled hair, lost her smile, and knew she’d have to get the shovel out one more time.
Six-sentence stories all month, brought to you by Hemingway, creator of the first six-word story. And by General Electric, we bring good things to life. And by Gillette, the best a man can get. And by Grey Poupon; pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon.
Any similarity Mary Cavanaugh has to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Unless you’re thinking Emily Bell, in which case you caught me!
Thanks for stopping by. If you have any requests for letters H through Z, send ’em my way!