Miss Ellis looked at me a moment, then continued;
“I was a hot twenty and the Kramers were ancient to me. He was about sixty six when he died, and she was sixty two.”
Miss Ellis paused, and I could see her memories.
“From the moment Mr. Kramer died, Mrs Kramer stopped living. They had children so she turned everything over to them, as if she was going to die tomorrow. It was the top conversation of the neighbourhood; how Mrs. Kramer, just walked away. She turned the business over to the children, put the house in their name, and just sat around day after day, doing nothing, turning into skin and bones, deciding to die. And she die in less than a year after Mr. Kramer.”
I didn’t see the relevance of her conversation.
I had asked if she were lonely, she had said, “No, I always have me,” and then went into this recountation.
I wondered if she was drifting, as old people are supposed to do, but then she met my eyes.
“I never wanted to love someone that much that when they die they take my life.”
I didn’t say anything, she had creeped me out.