Free The Key to Everything by Alex Kimmell

pretty rough on him. He acted so strangely the last few days… maybe the fresh air will do him some good.
    It’s a nice thought, but it doesn’t help her feel better. The last thing she needs is Auden having a nervous breakdown. It’s hard enough being in a new neighborhood with no friends. She needs her boat to be steady. She had better stop the rolling before they tip over and get washed out to sea.
    She folds her arms on top of the fireplace bricks and exhales hard. Resting her head on her forearms, she absentmindedly begins kicking bricks with the toe of her white tennis shoe. She can hear the muffled thud of each concussion reverberate through her bones. There isn’t enough pain caused by the action to prevent her from continuing, just enough to keep her awake and aware of everything so she doesn’t fall into her own pit of worry and despair.
    “Come on, Auden,” she says through clenched teeth. “Where the fuck are you?” 
    Emily pushes away from the fireplace and, in doing so, knocks a few pictures off the mantel. She wants to scream in frustration, but that would only wake the kids. Every muscle in her body tightens and shakes violently for a few seconds. She grinds her teeth and whips her arms through the air, punching at the ghosts of bad luck or at inanimate objects, or because of her missing husband. 
    Putting her hands to her face, she lets out a muted cry, takes a deep breath, and kneels down to pick up the fallen photographs. The first one is a small, unadorned wooden frame surrounding a picture of Jason and Jeremy riding the swings in her parents’ backyard. It was only taken a few months ago, but they look like completely different human beings now. No longer the babies they were then, swinging through the air, laughing hysterically. 
    The second one is a black-and-white silhouette that Auden took of her when she was pregnant with Jeremy. She was changing into her nightgown in front of the window. The full moon hung directly behind her head like a halo, and its light illuminated the edges of her naked body, making her frame appear solid black. The image of her round belly only a few days away from giving birth made her ache to be pregnant again. Originally she hated the picture, but Auden framed it anyway. She’s glad he did.
     Lastly she picks up the picture from their wedding. The silver frame surrounds what would typically be a photo of a bride and groom holding hands and smiling as they run off toward their honeymoon through showers of rice. Since their friends are a bit eccentric, they threw buckets of water instead. Caught mid-air, just before the happy couple realizes they are about to get soaked, dozens of arches of water hover inches above their heads, about to splash down. Everyone smiles and points as Auden and Emily wave obliviously to the crowd.
    She smiles at the memory and places the frame back on the top of the mantel. Luckily, the glass is still intact in all of them. She brushes some old ash off the bricks with her index finger and turns to look at the silent phone, willing it to ring. A motion on the mantle runs across the corner of her peripheral vision, and she turns back. The pictures have all changed. Jeremy and Jason are standing in front of the swings instead of riding them. The newlyweds are no longer in the rear of the photo smiling and waving, but now stand front and center in the frame. 
    What captures her attention the most, however, is the silhouette. The moon is still hanging high in the window frame, but the shadow woman is no longer standing in its light. She now faces the camera and walks slowly into the center of the room. She floats out of the moonlight’s glare as her image begins to gain definition. The black drains away from her full, curved shape to reveal pale flesh. Her swollen breasts bounce gently with each step. Her fingers interlaced over her ripe belly untangle and rise up into the air.
    Emily wants to close her eyes and not see this. She wants