After the Hour
Disclaimer: This is a continuation/ adaptation of “The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin. You can find the link to the text here.
I’m working from the line “Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom.”
“I should like to identify the body,” she whispered.
“Why, Mrs. Mallard, women do not see the dead. It is unheard of,” said Richards.
“He is my husband. I have seen him in all states. I believe I have more of a right that you, who is merely his colleague.”
Mrs. Mallard waved her hand, dismissing Richards. She clutched her nightgown with one hand and wound the other around her sister’s waist.
“Josephine, I shall not ask you to come with me-”
“-But I will not leave you to go alone.”
The two sisters descended to the streets and walked towards the mortuary, where Mr. Mallard’s body would be. Josephine stopped at the entrance. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mrs. Mallard nodded and let go of her sister. She entered the building.
The men in the room stopped what they were doing when they saw a woman enter the room. She might have been the first one - alive, at least. As if in a trance, she walked to her husband’s body. No one led her to him.
He was covered with a white sheet. With trembling hands, she pulled it down. Her husband’s eyes were closed, and his face was pale. She covered it again after a minute. “He really is dead,” she muttered to herself.
She turned to leave, but before she could, she felt faint. She barely had time to touch her head before she fainted.
A doctor was summoned, and Josephine rushed in behind him. When she came to, the doctor uttered four words that would change her life. “You are with child.”
Mrs. Mallard leaned into her sister. Less than an hour ago, she thought she was free, that her life was her own. Now, she had someone else to live for. It seemed - even in death - that her husband did not leave her.
She had dreamt of a life beyond her four walls. It seemed she was forever doomed to look out the window, never going past it.
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