Three hundred and sixty five days ago she needed to go to the hospital for a routine bug or something. The hundredth such visit. No worries.
Sometime tonight I was reading to her as I always did at bed time. It was a bit later in the night than usual. She smiled at me and rolled onto her side.
Three hundred and sixty five days from tomorrow morning I walked out of that building. A dazed expressing on my face. Carrying her pillow. It was all I had left.
A blink of an eye and one of the brightest candles ever. Just. Went. Out.
I don't think that tomorrow is going to be a very good day.