For a Widow | Frances Gapper

It’s ok to be angry. Ok to sit close to the track of a high-speed railway line, wings folded and legs tucked under. Ok to delay 23 trains for 50 minutes the day before Christmas Eve. Ok to ignore their attempts at persuasion/negotiation. Ok not to give a fuck. 

As firefighters work to detach your Love’s remains from the overhead line it’s ok to feel numb, or not feel anything. Whatever humans think is correct swan behaviour (‘mourning her mate’) you’re the expert re. you. When they advance holding a safety blanket it’s ok to go for them. 

You’re a survivor. Just do that for a while, survive. 

It’s nice on the river. 

Another swan, likewise bereaved (men smashed eggs and wrecked nest, she died of a broken heart), keeps appearing. Forget it, buster. 

Ok not to show grace of movement, ok to be muddied and yank up weeds. 

Ok to admire his persistence, ok to like him, fine to accept from his beak tokens of esteem, tidbits he’s saved for you. Ok to think you could love again, it’s possible. 

Ok to decide but no. Ok in late autumn when mist lies on the river to fly away.

Frances Gapper’s tiny story She’s Gone was published by Wigleaf and is included in Best Microfiction 2021. Her flashes and micros have appeared in eg 100 Word Story, Six Sentences, Dribble Drabble Review, FlashBack Fiction, the Ilanot Review, the Citron Review, New Flash Fiction Review and Splonk. She lives in the UK’s Black Country with her partner Bear.