if your heart breaks

when you are all alone, does anyone ever hear it?

what if it broke as you were leaving your marital bed, one you've shared for decades, or aeons in your life, worn sheet in hand, palm held to chest - wailing.

wails are strange noises. unaccompanied by tears. gutteral. un.ignorable.

and he didn't ignore them or deny the accusations. his silence confirmed her worst fears.decades dismissed by a flitter of fresh-faced fancy. she knew. and he was glad that she knew because he vehemently believed in continuing on the path of his singular joy.

"what now.." she whispered...the question struggling to get out, muffled between dreams dashed and freshly sprung tears..

"i don't believe in divorce". matter of fact, giving nothing away. no apology, no expectation - just the truth.

and in the middle of the night, between tears that mourned her dreams of a happy old age, they made kalkals. Both sets of hands kneading the dough, mixed earlier in the day - the part untouched by this new disease. They rolled it together on their worn granite counter, the clink of a fork the only sound between them. Eyes averted, lips sealed, they grieved for the veneer they lost, silently.