Emily fumbled through the junk drawer, mumbling to herself as she searched.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Gregory asked, leaning over her shoulder to observe.

“Trying to find your hammer,” Emily muttered. “I need it for my project.”

“What project?” Gregory asked. Emily could feel him touch her shoulder, and for a brief moment she paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Her beloved husband’s touch was always so soothing, so calming. That’s what made this so difficult.

“This is just something I need to do. Something I’ve been putting off for too long.” Emily said.

She resumed her searching, sighing in relief when she found the hammer, its once shiny metallic surface covered in dents and dings from her husband’s many years of extensive use. How long had it been since he’d last touched it?

“You look a little frantic to be hanging pictures, Em. Why don’t you go lie down and get some rest. Maybe make some tea?”

“I don’t need any tea, Gregory. I need to finish my project before I change my mind,” Emily stated, standing and hurrying to the living room, her husband fast on her heels.

“Em, baby, what is it?”

Emily sat down on the recliner, her right hand holding the hammer as her left hand fumbled for the long metal stylus she’d brought home from work that day.

“Em, my love,” Gregory had kneeled down in front of her now, his hand reaching out to caress her thigh. “Let me in, Sweetheart. What are you doing now?”

Emily smiled, tears running down her cheeks as she looked lovingly into her husband’s eyes.

“I love you, Gregory. I have loved you since the first day we met, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep living with the shadow of you. You’re not real. You died three years ago in that accident. You’re now just a figment of my imagination, and this is the only way that I know to let you go.”

“Em?” Gregory looked terrified now. “Baby, whatever you’re thinking…”

“It’ll be okay,” Emily whispered.

“Em? Em! No!” Gregory could only watch in horror as his wife brought the stylus up to her orbital socket and gave it one sharp knock with the hammer, sending the stylus tearing through brain matter, severing precious connections, special memories, entire sections of Emily’s beautiful personality. Emily slumped back in the chair, gazing blankly into the distance as the ghost of her husband fought to maintain his connection to his wife.

“Em, baby…”

She looked at him in a daze, blood leaking down her face.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Gregory asked.

It took a moment for Emily’s mouth to form the words that struck Gregory with an icy chill.

“Who are you?”