It's the Little Things (125 words)

The package you ordered from Amazon finally came in today.
More books, no doubt.
I smiled because you had been expecting it.
Words caught in the net of my throat,
nearly calling for you to come and see.
And before you couldn’t answer, I remembered.
I will not open it.

I found the shirt you were looking for.
Your favorite beer was on sale at the store.
The DVR is full of football games.
The neighbor brought back your drill.
I forgot how to program the remote control.

I am hollow and over full with grief.
I suffocate on tears
because crying hasn’t brought you back yet.
It’s as if I were holding a river
and all those “little things” are weights in my shoes.