The thin blue line kept growing every day.
She saw it. Sometimes just a vague hint on the corner of her eye, sometimes clear as day. It was always there and it kept getting bigger.
The strange thing was, nobody else seemed to notice it. Her husband gave her a quick puzzled look over his phone when she mentioned it at breakfast, then asked for more coffee and mumbled about the toast being overdone ‘yet again’.
Her kids didn’t even turn to away from the video game screen when she asked them about it. As she left the room, she overheard a hushed voice saying: ‘See? Dad told you she was crazy’.
The only one who apparently saw the line too was Seymour, her cat. He would carefully avoid it, and even meowed to warn her a whenever she was about to absentmindedly step on it.
She tried to clean it many of times, but it never faded away, no matter what she did. She tried not to think about it, distracting herself by doing special things for her family. Favorite dinners, little gifts, small tokens to show her love. But somehow they never seemed to notice them.
With every day the line kept slowly crawling across the middle of the house. With every day her family became colder and more distant.
Then, one quiet autumn day, the line was no longer there. She wondered what had happened, before noticing it was not the only thing gone from the house. Her family was gone too.
She didn’t have to question what had happened to them, the note on top of the divorce papers explained it all.
She let herself drop on the bedroom chair, speechless and dumbfounded, tears rolling down her cheeks while the pieces of her life slowly crumbled into sand.
Then she felt a small warm body cuddling on her lap, followed by the gentle sound of rhythmic purring.
While she stroked Seymour’s soft golden fur, she suddenly surprised herself by noticing this was the first time in many years that she didn’t feel alone.