P's Notes

If I die today, everyone else’s life will still go on. My husband might go back to work a week later? Or two weeks later? Maybe a month later. But he will go back. His days will fill up again with emails and work calls and presentations and deadlines. He will sleep in my bed. He might have trouble sleeping. But eventually, he will go to sleep. My side of the bed will be empty. I don’t how that would make him feel. It’s a large bed for just one person. There will be two kindles in the room. One won’t be used anymore. He might give it to someone else. I don’t know what he will do with my clothes. So many of them. We plan to learn French together and join dance classes too. I don’t know how he will do that. He might eventually learn French. But I won’t be there to see him speak. If I die today, everyone else’s life will still go on. My parents will still look after my younger siblings. My mother will wake up and make breakfast for everyone else. She might miss me while making bhindi par