Pill Pieta
The deep ache enveloped Marlene and squeezed tightly and more tightly until she could barely breathe. She closed her eyes and folded her hands in prayer and let the pain finish what it was doing as she focused on the wall in front of the bed in her room. A picture was there, one she had found at a flea market. It was the Pieta, it said on the bottom. Mary holding the dead Jesus. She prayed, as the pain raged and clamped around her. She asked through her tears, ‘God, why don’t you let me stay with my boy a little longer?’
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