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Heartbreak Sunrise

by RockyHighlander 10 months ago in heartbreak
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Shadows, Mists, Memories

Heartbreak Sunrise
Photo by Jakob Rosen on Unsplash

The boards creak as the morning sun touches the apartment's wood supports.

A landlocked ship, a mile above sea level.

The orange half globe lightly illuminates the winter barren trees, leafless as if flipped upside-down roots reaching for the sky.

Rays reach out and grace the sides of the building, click-click-click, the clock counts the seconds.

A casual glance at the phone, reveals no messages. A whole year, then one morning, poof. She's not there.

Those companionship feelings, the intimacy, the stupid silliness, the cuteness and tenderness, and all the good moments. The heart lurches, reaching out for something... not... there...

A full orange-yellow globe rises above the tree line, creaking intensifies, and tears stain the carpet floor.

Morning's light leaves shadow sketches upon the drapes, a dreamcatcher graces both sides of the window panes. The room begins to warm as the clock continues to clink-click-click.

Memories of laughter, tickling, and challenges overcome draws out the sweet love that was there. Tears blind the vision of the writer, as he feels the memories they shared. The intimacies only a loving couple can share, only two people in love can create.

The factories begin their routine humming as sounds of the city being to fill the empty spaces where her voice was.

Neighborhood cars begin to start out in the parking lot, letting them run for a minute, it's cold. She had painful issues with the cold, tried to protect her from it.

Steam rises from the warmer spots and from the mouths of the passerby's. A pair of lovers exchange a kiss, wondering if they know, a kiss can tell you everything. She was supposed to be there for the rest of my life. There were kisses that were so convincing. Moments that felt true. Images of a happy family continue to dance, of her smiling, of kids playing joyfully.

Plop, the puddle on the carpet begins to drip. Another rush of emotion overtakes him. He puts his head in his hands, but another memory of her caressing his broken face cuts across the writer's vision. The ways she could comfort him, make him feel like everything was going to be okay because she would always be there.

Gone, tear well up again.

"Sniff" ... plop, plop, plop, plop ...


About the author


Pen name:

William Craig

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