There he stood looking at me, the gaze was empty. It was as if he wasn’t just here. He was really not looking at me, the fire had gone out of his eyes.
He looked tired in his white shirt and black trouser with the brief case in hand and the sight was so pathetic.
I welcomed him home, I gave him a hug, told him his food will be ready in a minute. He answered with a grunt. I didn’t care.
How did we get to here? What happened to love we had? Sometime ago we could conquer the world but now there’s nothing left.
The hearth is fizzled out, the love is out and no matter how I try to hold on, it slips right through my fingers.
Today, I am waiting for him to give the word and we will go our separate ways. Until then I’ll survive this shell of what we had.
© Deborah Glover, 2016
The prompt for today is Air by Rayvon Owen.
Until next time,