Taking the scissors, she grabbed some old newspapers and got to work.

Snip, snip, snip.

Snipping away at them, making shapes, the tears welling up in her eyes.

Snip, snip, snip.

Beginning to sob, she kept on going, making more of the same shape.

Snip, snip, snip.

They all had to be perfect, so she trimmed them all, ever so slightly.


She loved him, and she missed him.

He just didn't know how much.