She sang into the quiet night, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance, the cold frosty wind playing with her long auburn hair. Smoke spiraled serenely in long slender rivets from her cigarette into the air before vanishing into the night.
You were right here with me this time last year.
She laughed bitterly; a single tear running down her cheek in a long black streak. She didn’t believe in dreams. Life has taught her well and she knew the rules of the game. Dreams were for other people, the ones who have choices in their paths and a roof over their heads.
In short, people who lived.
But he suddenly cam into her life one day, and with reeling speed he defied everything she believed in. Life, almost laughably, played in warm technicolor instead of the same shade of grey that she was accustomed to.
In her possession was a dream that everyone else had and for the first time in her life she didn’t know what to do about it.
She was scared.
There was so much more to fall when you genuinely cared.
But she had seen a living, breathing person reflected in his warm hazel eyes; the life he shared with her unselfishly, from the way he laughed warmly at everything she said, to the loving words that he poured into her ear, gave her reason after reason to believe, and eventually she did.
Foolishly. Life always has the final say. She knew this, but she had forgotten.
And in an almost predestined accident, he was gone.
Wiping her tear away, she left the pier quietly, blending into the darkness of the alley before the sun shone and the world awoke to yet another day.
Good morning.
