A Necessary Job of The Worst Sort

The woman’s spouse had died months ago, yet she remained in her traditional black lace gown, as by tradition of the society required of the widows of a married couple. She remained in her home, keeping the curtains shuttered and the door closed to anyone except those dearest to her. Among those whom she considered dearest, her most special visitor was her companion, a tall and prim woman who carried an umbrella with her even on the sunniest of days. This woman, known to her companions as Ciro, was the widow’s closest friend, having supported her during the loss of her two children and, more recently, the loss of her spouse.

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“Hello, Ciro.” The widow greets her friend, a lack of enthusiasm in her voice, as the woman enters the widow’s bedroom and props her umbrella against the wall. “Please, take a seat.”

Ciro takes a seat next to her friend, who is looking out of the window in front of the two women, her eyes vacant, cloudy with her grief. Ciro reaches across the table, and takes the widow’s hand, stroking it gently with her other hand.

“Please, do it quickly. I do not think I can abstain this feeling any longer. It hurts even worse than a knife to the gut would. Take it, please.” The widow sobs, as she turns her head to Ciro, who smiles gently, and moves her hands to the widow’s cheeks to wipe her tears away.

“You are certain? You want to start anew again, forget? You know the pain is useful dear friend.”

“Please. Please, just take them. I would do anything to get rid of this pain.” The widow cries out, and Ciro nods. This was a familiar experience for both women, as the struggles of the widow had brought Ciro to help for three decades now, and it was incredibly easy for them to ease their bodies next to each other.  Bringing her companion’s head closer to hers, Ciro gently pushes her lips to the other woman’s forehead, the widow’s eyes going blank and then returning to their normally bright state.

Ciro places her hands in her lap, as the woman across from her comes around and settles her gaze on her companion.

“Ciro? I am dreadfully afraid I have forgotten why I have asked you to visit.”

“Just a visit for tea, darling. We got distracted, though, and were discussing some trivial matters. They are not relevant anymore, I think. I believe you left the pot on the stove top in our distraction.” With her words, the whistle of a teapot came from the other side of the house, where the kitchen remained.

“Oh! Of course, how could I forget! Silly me, I fear my thoughts escape me more and more as each day passes. Ciro, how would I ever live without you!” The other woman clasps her hands together, smiling widely. She stands up, pulling Ciro into a quick hug, before rushing away, leaving Ciro alone in the room.

Ciro wipes her lips with a sleeve, before glancing in the mirror hanging on the wall. Her skin is now brighter than before, her hair shinier and she no longer feels the pang of hunger deep within her bones. She hates doing this dreadful job, but it is what lets her remain alive for these last few centuries or so, and what will continue to let her to remain on this world for the next centuries to come.

Author's Note

I believe this took about two hours to write & edit, including a break to eat some popcorn in between. Written from this prompt: https://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/writing-prompt-the-variants-of-va