She hung up the phone with excitement almost radiating off of her like a loud perfume. Mrs. Murry had spent the last hour callling all of her friends and family, telling them the great news that her son had shared with her over the phone two hours ago. Her son was engaged to be married to his girlfriend of three years. Mrs. Murry had been in tears of joy as she spoke on the phone. Her husband was still at work and she found herself home alone again, wishing she could interrupt his busy day to share the great news. She went across her bedroom and sat in the seat of her bay window, legs stretched out across the floral cushion. She remembered sitting there with her son when he was a boy. They would sit and look at the planes fly over head.
The sky was now grey, overcast with the hints of a storm brewing in the east. The trees stood tall and naked, their leaves scattered across the sidewalk. A squirrel sat in the tree parallel to the window where Ms. Murry sat excited and contemplating the wedding of her only son. Her train of thought was broken by a group of small children across the street playing in the yard screaming. One of them had hidden himself in a pile of leaves and jumped out, chasing the others around the yard.
The leaves, with all of their warm colors, covered the yards and the streets almost like a painting. Adding color where there would soon be none. A plane passed by overhead. The airport was only a ten minute drive away, the sounds of planes cutting through the wind had often filled the house. The children outside all stopped and pointed at the plane with smiles across their faces. As Ms. Murry watched the children below marvel at the plane, she thought back to her own son. Her face, tired and worn from her many years of teaching, was suddenly wet with tears that slowly found their way from her sorrowful brown eyes. She leaned her head against the window, her thin fingers tracing the window frame into a familiar shape. Her son had once sat on her lap and drawn a heart with his tiny toddler fingers in the condensation of the window.
Her happiness began to recede into the depths of her mind as sorrow slowly creeped its way into her heart. It was if a shadowy figure had reached out from the darkest corners of her mind and held her heart in its hands, squeezing it with tremendous force. Tears streamed from her face, dripping onto the sleeve of her shirt. Her body began to shake as she began to cry more violently, throwing her hands to her face.