The saying was the eyes are the windows to the soul; Evelyn looked out through the color of café au lait and surveyed the world that, over the past 83 years, had shown her many changes which had collected as so many dusty and shelved memories. She straightened her bed after a restless night and made her way to the shower. An avalanche of snow white shampoo slid down as the waterfall of wetness pattered on the roof of her head.
She emerged from the bath, draped her frame decoratively, and decided to forego breakfast in trade for time on the veranda. The still-early sun was warm and inviting; Evelyn saw this as the perfect day to take her leave. She powered down the heating and cooling, shuttered the windows and finally headed to her next adventure. She was happy as she left everything behind.
“No, it wasn’t any sort of trouble,” Stanley stuccadoed into the receiver. “She looks asleep, peaceful.” He waited for his sister to blow her nose. “It’s like I already told you, Patsy. She was all washed up and dressed, like every morning. No, it wasn’t anything she ate; there weren’t any dishes, you see. I think she went straight outside and that’s where I found her. Look, Patsy, I’ve got to go and call ‘round to the mortuary. Don’t you worry; I’ll get everything taken care of. I’ll ring you back later, all right?” With a sigh, Stanley hung up and looked out toward the veranda where his mother’s body was seated, as silent as a cottage closed up after summer, its owners having left for their far-away homes.