I’m Fine

by Patrick Boucher

“I’m fine,” she whispered half-heartedly before she was gone. She always claimed that even when it was clear she wasn’t. She was told that not being okay was fine, but she always insisted otherwise. When he first heard those words, he was only a child. That sentence rang throughout, at the beach, at home, at work. When he held her hand as she began to fade, she assured him she was fine. He picked up the small, crinkled photo from all those years ago, when she was fine, and laid it beside her resting place. As he exited the graveyard, he told himself he was fine too.