My dearest husband,

While you were out, Sophie came to me, Wet from the storm. I
still don't know how his scrawny neck held that big head of
his. Without expression, he looked my way. I could have
sworn It was all in my head.

While you were out, Sophie came to me, all limp and frail,
his skin painted corpse white, and his eyes said nothing. He
gave me a lock of his hair, so we will never forget. I left
it on the counter. His skin was cold, or maybe it was me.
Still couldn't beleive I would ever see my Sophie.

My first reaction was appaulling. I was so angry. How dare
he show his face after I made peace with his absence? I told
him to wait for you. You would only be a few minutes. And I
went to play his song. My hands were shaking. My eyes
horrified to the sight of  gore in my kitchen, yet the joys
of his return made me forget all that. I yelled from the
next room that his things were just the way he left them.
But allas, my Sophie was gone.

I don't know where that Lock of hair dissapeard to. No
matter what you will think I know it was true. Because no
one can take away the puddle of water left in the kitchen,
and the mud stains in the shape of his shoes.

Love,
Mia