An introduction to the calculus of finite differences by Clarence Hudson Richardson

By Clarence Hudson Richardson

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No, Michael. Not now. ” His gaze darted back down the hall. “You’re probably right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. ” I touched his arm. “We will, Michael. I promise. ” I pushed the elevator button and watched him walk away, then rode the three floors down to the cafeteria, where I sat alone, sipping my hot coffee in silence, watching people come and go. I thought of what Michael had said and felt numb all over again, as if I were nothing but a cold, lifeless mass of human matter. I couldn’t move, nor did I wish to make eye contact with anyone who might suddenly strike up a friendly conversation.

Maybe you’re ready to move on, but I’m not. I’m still in agony. ” He turned his gaze to the window. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. “Just forget it,” he said as he brushed by me, heading for the door. “I need to get back to work. I’ll probably be late getting home. ” As I watched him leave, the floor seemed to shift under my feet. I felt like I was standing in a teetering rowboat, struggling to keep my balance while the waves splashed against my hull. o0o My father called that night. It was the first time he had called since the funeral.

This was not unusual. I’d been experiencing bouts of anxiety since Megan’s death, always fearing the worst in any situation... When I reached the top of the stairs, I found our bedroom empty, but Megan’s door wide open, which was definitely unusual, for Michael insisted we keep it closed. He didn’t want to go in there. He didn’t want to look at Megan’s things, or smell the familiar scent of her that still lingered. He didn’t want to be reminded. A part of me understood this on some level, but another part of me did not.

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