Saturday, November 30

Even Though The Fire Was Warm, the Room Was Stone Cold..

 {{Even Though The Fire Was Warm, the Room Was Stone Cold.. }}

He asked "Can we talk now?"


He said it is best if we don't talk to each other at night.

She sat there on the couch, stunned, her eyes welling up with tears.  No it's not, "it's the worst" she blurted out, and he shut the hall door anyway, walking back to the bedroom.

She sat motionless, pensive, thinking.  The fire was slowly dimming, the flames being the only moving life in the room.  She wished for something so simple, someone that wanted to spend time with her, and wondered when in their marriage did the desire to hang out fade into a nonexistence.  They had always agreed that a mutual relationship was when both people were there because they wanted to be, but clearly he was done. 

If he was gone all day, and didn't want to be with her at night, what part of the day was left? 

{{a little late night writing.. }}

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Faith & Fruition,

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