Her wake

And there she was, Martha Wayles Skelton Jefferson, lying on the white bed, surrounded by colourful flowers that didn’t seem so colourful to Thomas at all. The pale skin glued to her bone structure like a soft silk hugging the body of the woman he loved the most. She had soft dark shades under her eyes that used to have a beautiful hazel colour.
“The eyes I never got tired of looking at.” He thought to himself.
Her gorgeous, long, light, brown, wavy hair seemed to have lost its vivid colour.
“The hair I used to smell. That soft smell of roses you always had on your hair.”
The corpse of his beloved had Martha’s favourite dress, a light beige one with soft yellow lines.
“The dress she wore the first time we ever saw each other.”
On her neck she was bearing a golden necklace with a golden cross.
“The golden necklace I gave you as a birthday gift.”
On her left hand, there was the golden ring.
The wedding ring.
“The ring I placed on your finger, the moment I said my vows to you, my lady. I can still remember them: “Long ago you were just a dream and a prayer. Now you are my wife. With our future as bright as the promises of God, I will care for you, honour and protect you. I lay down my life for you my friend and my love.”
He knelt down, next to the bed Martha was lying and started to caress her head softly.
-Even with this cold skin I feel in my hands, even if you have your eyes closed... Even if you... – He felt his voice break as he was in the verge of crying, releasing his sorrow. – ...are no longer here in the mortal world... I still love you... I miss you my dearest dear...
With that he broke into tears, resting his head on her cold chest, searching for comfort. Waiting for the sweet, warm hands to ease his pain and sorrow. Those warm, sweet hands he felt every time she held him close. Every time she caressed his cheek.
He just needed one soft sweet touch from that woman.
Just one touch that could warm his frozen heart.
Just one touch to clean his tears from his cheek.
Just one touch...




“You died in summer... and it seemed that the whole nature mourned you the following two seasons.”