It was one of the coldest autumn nights. The wind kept whipping its might against the outer walls. The fire had long ago burned down, the last glimpse of red disappeared from the coals. Rain was beating against the roof wetting the streets of Seattle. It carried the dirt of the city in its waves like a refugee holding on to memories.
I sat there watching the darkness seeking comfort in its thickness. The blanket around me did nothing to dispel the coldness. My wrist still ached, pain momentarily dispelling the dull haze I had succumbed. I needed to get it fixed but was afraid of losing the only thing I could still feel. Your face flashed across my eyes, the anger and disappointment you hold for me so clear that I didn’t need to hear your words. But they came anyway, harsh and clipped all the warmth gone.
/A
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