He Found His Ex-Wife Alone At The Hospital And Froze

Her hospital gown was pale blue.

Her shoulders looked small inside it.

Her hair was short.

Too short.

Then she shifted slightly, and the overhead light touched the side of her face.

Emily.

My ex-wife.

The woman I had divorced only two months earlier.

The woman whose suitcase wheels had scraped across the threshold of our apartment at midnight while I stood in the kitchen saying nothing because I had already said far too much.

My name is Michael Harris.