Instinctively I place my slender hand at the back of my neck, fingering the off switch of my fate. I sigh as I open the oven door.
It smells delicious; hopefully my husband and I will be able to devour it before we have to shut down.
Back into a little dust puff, incapable to do anything else except think of the world we had before.
"Hey Sweetie," my husband swishes through the door, and my heart pumps extra fast, like it always does, even after 6 years. "Smells good in here.
" He kisses my lips, and I hold on, closing my eyes, savoring it. One last time. I didn't want to unlatch. "Have you heard?" I say in a whisper, his beard tickling my cheek as he pulls away.
"Yes, I heard." His voice made me want to crumble up and cry, but I had to be strong. For him? For myself? "Well, at least we have pie." I scoop it and scurry to the table.
"Yes, pie." He echoes behind me.
We each take a fat slice, staring at each other.
I try my best to remember the way the light bounces in his eye, try to capture the moment where he bites into his pie, bits of crust hanging off his beard...I giggle, then take my own bite.
The sweetness, hard at first, transforms into liquid, then disappears as I swallow. We will be swallowed, into darkness...I blink hard, then slide the rest of my pie to my husband.
"Let's do something else, something that won't remind us of disappearing."