She pulled out the jar of mayonnaise from the fridge: she would make it herself one day, just not today. It was late already. She cut some of the fresh bread she’d purchased at the bakery, the smell of the crumb and the sounds of the crust cracking always putting a smile on her face.
She sliced some tomatoes that she set on one side of the bread, putting away what she didn’t need for her own lunch later today.
She opened a can of shredded tuna, emptied the water and dropped it into a bowl before adding a tablespoon of mayo, mixing both together.
She lathered the empty piece of bread with the mix then added some slices of cheese before putting the sandwich together.
She wrapped in some aluminium foil and placed it into the lunch box next to the apple and the granola bar.
“Meghan?” Her husband called coming into the kitchen. He cast a quick glance at the box, his face dropping into a sad expression. “Oh Honey.”
He went behind her and embraced her, as she started sobbing.
It had been the same on the first day of school after any vacations for almost 5 years.
Meghan could never entirely accept her little boy was no longer here.
In response to the Daily Post writing prompt Sandwich