A sound flutters around me in a distant sort of way, a voice as ethereal as a whisper, speaks my name, “Sherri, Sherri.”
Strange…I’m the only one here in the dwindling afternoon, waiting for darkness to swallow sunlight…“Sherri, Sherri.”
Through the haze, shadows with human faces drift through a dimly lit room; my mother stands before them, behind her a mahogany box lays dripping with flowers. She blots an eye with a tissue. “Sherri, we miss you;” her voice shudders as she speaks my name, “Sherri, Sherri.”
I’m participating in Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction prompt. This week’s prompt – Whisper.