The Peacock 535

 "Your turn, Sarah", says Carl, smiling.

"My turn?"

"Have you always been single?"

"I am a widow."

"When did you lose your husband?" says Carol."

"She was my wife."

"Is this okay for you, right now?" Carl says.

"Oh, yes.  Don't worry.  I was just taken by surprise.  We weren't married long, and I was pretty young, just twenty-three when I married Priscilla, and she was already in her fifties.  She died three years later, breast cancer.  It was in remission when we first knew each other, but when we tied the knot, we had a tacit understanding that she might be gone soon."

"What was her profession?"  Carol asks.

"She was a musician."  

"Classical?"

"Punk.  Or neo punk. She had a band.  They were pretty famous.  Ever hear of Priscilla and Her Little Mouth Breathers?"

"You were married to Priscilla?" says Carl, wide eyed and smiling.    I interviewed her for an article, just before she took ill.  Amazing woman.  She was like a cross between Patti Smith and Nina Hagen."

"She was one of a kind", says Sarah.  "She was one of a kind."