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Blog #1 - The Only Piece Left

The day started with ClaraJean staring at the empty space beside her, waiting for her alarm clock to sound. It had been two years since the death of her husband and she still wasn't used to sleeping alone. This morning, the sound of raindrops thumping against her window distracted her from the grief she felt each morning.
"BEEP BEEP BEEP" blared the alarm, cueing ClaraJean to get out her bed and start her day.
She slowly lifted her frail body out of bed and walked toward the closet to slip on one of her husband's old shirts. As she approached the kitchen, the smell of rotting garbage filled her nostrils, but she ignored it as usual. For breakfast she drank a cup of black coffee alongside a singe piece of toast. Sitting at the kitchen table alone, ClaraJean reminisced about her husband. They used to get up together and prepare a feast - both believing the breakfast was the most important meal of the day. Now ClaraJean could barely get finish a piece of toast.
After downing her coffee and a couple bites of toast, ClaraJean got ready to go to the asylum as she does every Wednesday. Her son would be expecting her. Even though he was the reason her husband was gone, he was the last piece she had left of him.

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