(Prompt: Thumbholes)
Kaylie pushed through the thumbholes of her cardigan, hugging herself tightly. The chill in the autumn afternoon reminded her of the day Cal proposed. Now he was gone. Nothing seemed right. And she was lost without him. The chill matched the coldness of his stiff ashen body at the funeral. Recapturing the rhythm of life without him took time. Yet the ring on her hand still sparkled with hope. He’d wanted her to move on, to find love again. She intended that, but not as he’d imagined. Her art would hang in galleries again. The light in the darkness. Hope.
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