It started as little things in the beginning. Like how long it took to bake cheese sticks. Sometimes she forgot to keep the timer altogether. Sometimes she forgot to lock the house or tried to start the car without the car keys.
Gradually, it escalated. It was a tad funny when she forgot how many kids they had. He didn’t notice anything wrong even then.
Then he saw it. No, it glared at him when she forgot his name. He covered up his worries with a teasing smile. Soon she too realized when she struggled to remember her kids’ names.
Nobody likes goodbyes. But for him this was brutal. Every day he lost a little part of her. Every day he became less familiar to her.
This goodbye was too slow and excruciatingly painful. Only he knew. But at least she didn’t remember enough to feel any of the pain, he took solace in that fact.
© Vinitha 2021
This Flash Fiction is written in response to the twenty-sixth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘Goodbye’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
