Birdie I

This time, as she waited, dressed, on edge, ready, the hearse did not stop. There were no familiar footsteps on the porch, no knock at the door. For a long time, Birdie sat there and wondered. She could hear the air around her breathe. She could just see the dust motes in what was left of the light coming through the curtains. She waited, she wondered, and then she knew.