It's Still Life

The Shadowed Door

(the death of an online friend)

It’s like finding a shadow where a door used to be — a threshold crossed a thousand times without ever noticing the hinges.

Or like the neighbour you waved to across the wire and glass of years — now gone, and there are no casseroles, no tolling bells, just a single anonymous line in a comment box, marked with an emoji.

And yet the grief is real, curling its fingers around your heart, reminding you that bonds woven in words are still bonds — and absence stings the same, whether or not the chair ever stood at your table.

You search for the ritual that should follow — a candle, a hand, a funeral hymn — but silence yields nothing back.

When their light goes out, the street grows darker.

Still, you whisper their name — and the dark remembers.

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Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story, including the word “yield”.  Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.