Mini-story: Again

Widowed at thirty-three years old, she thought. As if her age mattered. As if anything did. Her name was Rebecca Haugen, née Parry and perhaps now Parry again. Her husband’s name was — or had been — Daniel. He had lived for thirty-seven years, fourteen of them with her, before his life ended on a Wednesday evening as he took his regular jog through their neighbourhood. The man driving the flashy SUV had the unlikely name of Taylor Walker the Third, which was two last names plus a number if you asked Rebecca. Walker had been drunk, to a degree that was almost impressive at the comparatively early hour of 7:45 PM. The SUV left the road, and Daniel left behind a wife who had been working up the courage to ask if they could start trying for a baby. Rebecca looked across the courtroom at Taylor Walker III, who continued to very pointedly not look at her under any circumstances. His extremely expensive lawyer was finishing up his closing statement now, parading before the jury in his…