After the first time I murdered my husband, we were totally in love with eachother again. I mean, we were given a second chance! That was something to treasure, and we did that. I appreciated his kindness, his cute looks and bright mind like I never did before. We made love all week long, every evening and morning. It was great.But I kept thinking about what happened.

Frank had been dead, I'd killed him with a sharp piece of glass. It had pierced his heart and his blood had been all over the bathroomfloor. But he'd gotten up and breathed and ate and made love. Was that a miracle of the Lord? Maybe. But we went on with our lifes. Eventually, Frank became more and more the same old guy he had always been. I am only human, you can't blame a person for what's inside him, can you? When something special becomes something of the past, if kind of fades and loses it's gleam and glitter.

So three weeks after the Murder, we were in our house looking at a beautiful chandelier that we had bought the day before. We had been shopping together, hand in hand visiting all furniture stores in town. In one store, we'd hidden behind this large bookcase and had kissed eachother for half an hour! When I watched the chandelier a smile came to my face when I thought about our passionate kisses. The chandelier was supposed to hang above our dining table and Frank had removed the old lamp.

“I'll turn off the electricity now.” Frank said. He walked away, and I started to position the ladder so that he could reach the point where the lamp would have to hang. It was a lovely silver and glass chandelier, and it would really brighten up the room. Frank came back and climbed the ladder.

“Be carefull.” I whispered. I handed him the lamp slowly and checked if he held it firmly. It was not only beautiful but also quite expensive. Frank hooked the lamp into the metal ring, and it hung there like a jewel. He picked up his screwdriver and started attaching all the wires. I just turned away to make some tea when I heard Frank curse. When I looked at him I saw him squirm to reach a little wire, but his foot slipped and he grabbed the lamp to hold his balance. A loud shattering sound made it clear that the chandelier did not agree with his decision to be his saviour.

“Hey, you stupid. You ruin my lamp!” I shouted to Frank. He looked at me with a frown, now that he stood solid again, he held on to the ladder.

“Don't worry about the dumb lamp, I almost fell!” I pulled up my shoulders and checked the lamp. One of the glass ornaments had come loose and laid broken on the dining table.