The 5 Stages of Grief

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Chapter 19, Mrs. Reichmann

It wasn’t the first time she’d woken up on the floor. She knew she was still drunk but not so bad as to forget the blow out with Gloria from earlier. Damn, another one gone, she thought, shaking her head. You just can’t find qualified help these days. She gathered herself up, took stock of the damage in the hallway mirror, adjusted her hair then went to the kitchen to fix herself a drink. “Might as well, my spineless husband’s too much of a coward to come home.” She went the simple route and pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge instead of mixing a drink. “If I’m going to be alone I might as well get good and drunk. Serves him right, the gutless bastard.” She uncorked the bottle and poured herself a healthy glass before returning to the front room to put on some music. She picked up her phone from a nearby table and sat down to begin her calls. She was in a devilish mood and knew her intentions were leaning towards trouble. The Doctor would be sorry he’d not come home, of that she would make sure.

A flash off of the front window caught her attention. She walked to the window to see what might have caused it, where it might have come from. Had she not still been somewhat intoxicated she may have realized the flash had not come from the front at all but a reflection from the back window. However, by the time her alcohol addled brain had figured this out – like a time delay on a live television broadcast or a long distance call over-seas – it was already too late. He was already in the house and standing behind her.

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