Broken Picture

Broken Picture

by Anonymous

I'd only ever seen her in a picture. She died years before I was born. The second woman he truly loved. The last woman he truly loved. Hidden away in a desk, the picture only came out when the decanter had nearly been emptied.

The first time I noticed it I was six, mother had thrown it across the room, breaking the glass and cracking the frame. My father bought a new one the next day. A memory, a regret, the love he could never have. A face he could never get away from. A regret that slowly destroyed him.

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