The Grief of a New Bride

Emma had packed those crates and trunks full of linens and old keepsakes who will unpack them now I shiver outside the march cold embraces our town like an icy shroud but inside the old pot bellied stove is fully stoked flames dancing though I can't feel their warmth it's quiet. At least Emma had absolutely fallen in love with the house a little farmhouse on the outskirts of town that needed a bit of fixing up hell a lot of fixing up we could afford it at least my job at the paper was fetching almost seventy five dollars a week not bad for a young man of only twenty three The home had become available when a local merchant had passed from consumption nasty business

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