A framed photograph of her mother, with her hands placed in the incredible way that is so dear to the photographer's heart, still hung crooked over a colonial chest of drawers.

Her blue and white bath wrap was in its place over the back of a chair, with her slippers beneath it.
She opened the door of the hospitable closet.

There were all the clothes and shoes and hats that she had left.

She drew out a drawer in the chest.

Nothing had been disturbed....