With time, Wounds heal,

But dead bodies rot.

Never Again

As she stood at the kitchen sink cleaning up dishes, she murmured "Never. Never. I'm never going to call him or even miss him. I'm OK. I'm absolutely OK without him."

The scrubbing sponge in her hand moved inside and outside the coffee mug in rythm with her murmur.

"I've managed a week without him and I can manage throughout my life. Don't need him. Don't need anybody."

"It feels good to be single. It's nice to be alone. My life's mine. Finally, I can dedicate each moment to myself. I can go out without having to take permissions. I can go on girls' days out."

Her hands paused and a slight grin showed on her face.

"I can even date guys - charming, handsome, smart, rich guys- who do not check my phone log everyday or demand that I give them my e-mail passwords."

She placed the mug aside and picked up a spoon, scrubbed it, and picked another.

"I can't believe it. How silly I've been to think that I'm so dependant on someone!", She chuckled.

She hummed a tune, smiled and took pride in her achievement. She was happy with herself for having welcomed singlehood cheerfully and for not having been an emotional fool.

While her hands still worked, rinsing one mug after another, and spoon after spoon, her mind wandered around all the possibilities of how she could enjoy her new life.

The phone rang and she was stirred from her dream, her hands jerked, the glass chipped and a piece of it pierced her skin, cutting her wrist, making it bleed. She immediately washed the cut under running water and held the wounded wrist tight with the other hand.

The phone stopped ringing.

The bleeding won't stop.

She ran, picked up the telephone receiver, dialled some numbers.

"Hello", she said, and her eyes streamed uncontrollably.

"I cut my hand baby. I need you to kiss it, please."