The streets were piled high with snow and the cold wind whistled in through the gaps in the windows. Alone by the fireplace, Emma watched the flames twist and burn over the blackening logs. These were the hardest days, the days when she almost expected him to walk in.
The doorbell rang. Emma stirred from the fireside and crossed over to the door.
On the doorstep, Maya held up a box of homemade cupcakes.
“I thought you shouldn’t be alone,” she said. “Not today.”
Together by the fireplace, they laughed and remembered.
Word Count: 92
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Dale Rogerson for providing the prompt photo!