My short story of the month is called the Osprey. It’s one of several short stories I wrote during a real-world stint that I think was inspired by the writing group I was in at the time not being very into fantasy or science fiction.

This one’s very short. 1,410 words. I wrote it in November of 2009. Here’s a little info about it: Life is uncertain. Loved ones are sometimes ripped away unexpectedly and moving on can seem an insurmountable task.

The Osprey
by Erika Friedman

“I have the same dream almost every night. I’m flying over the water. And calling your name. You never answer.” The clash of the dumpster being emptied into a garbage truck intrudes on the early morning. I stop, wait for the distraction to fade, as if fearful my voice won’t carry over it. “I guess you were right about the osprey.”

I turn around. The kitchen is unoccupied. Silent. Undisturbed. There are dirty plates on the table. The smell of mint tea hugs the apartment. My untouched mug still steams its invitation, sitting beside Jeremy’s eternally empty one.

“Baby, your absence is all I see of tomorrow.”

At the funeral I talk about the osprey that lost its mate to a fishing net at Huntington Lake. Jeremy heard its calls every morning of our vacation and thought it was grieving. What to me seemed like nothing more than a series of short whistles was a song of mourning to my fiancée. He