The Ribbon

White coated Dr. Atropos cut the thread: “Incurable, Millie. Sorry.”

“How long?” asked Millie and care-giving husband Mike.

“How long?” was implied in every glance, conversation, message, call.

Mike nursed Millie. Reluctant, ending each day, he stuffed its events into a box, stacked it untied by the invisible door into the dark.

As the boxes piled up, Millie’s smiles engendered Mike’s smiles back, created a ribbon between them. They no longer asked nor heard “How long?” With their ribbon, together they tied and stowed each day’s box. Beyond their colorful beribboned boxes they no longer could see the invisible door.