Mrs. Ferguson 's An Emotional Breakdown

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Mrs. Ferguson sniffled. Out of her nose oozed a slimy strand of pale, green liquid. Her runny nose was not caused by the cold, though it was very cool this time of year. No, she had in fact just lost her 45 year old husband, who had been murdered. When she had received word of the tragic event, she had suffered an emotional breakdown. She had desperately demanded to know who the killer was, but the man who she was speaking with on the phone had told her that the police had no idea, but they were investigating. She had hung up, and cried constantly. By the time her tears had stopped spilling, her cheeks had been covered with a crusty coating of dried tears.Need descriptive words. Currently, she was at the local cemetery, where all around, freshly fallen snow twinkled and glistened on the once green ground. The pale gray pathway had been shoveled, however, so that people could get around the cemetery easily. Mrs. Ferguson was listening attentively to the pastor, who was describing Mr. Ferguson’s life. Only Mr. Ferguson’s close family had been invited to attend the funeral, so they all knew every detail of his life, but it was common practice to read it all anyways. Bobby Ferguson had been a doctor. An anesthesiologist, to be precise. Whenever someone was to have surgery or give birth, for example, he would give them medicine to make them sleep until the pain of it was over. Now, Mrs. Ferguson thought gloomily, it was his turn to rest. It had been Bobby’s goal to be a

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