DAYS AND NIGHTS

And then tomorrow came again.

Death doesn’t always arrive at once.

Sometimes it begins as a small crack in the foundation.

Barely visible.

Mistaken for dust.

Over time, it spreads.
Reaching outward,
like water working its way through stone.

Until one day,
repair gives way to holding on.

His eyes used to laugh when they met yours.
His smile reached straight through you.
When he spoke,
you listened with your whole body.

Every day, she came.

She held his hand.
Told him how loved he was.
How the family he started
was still growing.

Before she left,
she searched his eyes for something—
a flicker, a trace, anything.

She kissed his forehead.
Wished him a peaceful death.

And hoped she would never see him again.

And then tomorrow came again.