It was Micah Blane’s 65th birthday, it should have been a happy day, but it was not. Henry blane died that day. Henry was only 68 and seemed to be in great shape, but a stroke killed him.
Henry Blane was the sun and moon to Micah, and his dying left a hole in her heart big enough to drive a semi thru, probably a Peterbuilt. After the funeral Micah called her boss at the investment firm and told him she retired, but would like to have her chair. For two months Micah did not leave the house, only forced to when she ran out of groceries and pet food. She had three cats and a dog, and she carried on conversations with them about Henry. They all agreed that Henry was a shit for dying on Micah’s birthday, and worse, not having a will or any savings. Micah was going to make up a sign offering a room to rent, but her writing was so bad she cut letters from magizines to make the sign. The same magazine was offering two for one glasses, and your choice of frames. Her cats opted for the big frame glasses, the dogs …