literature

Mornings Hereafter

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AN-Develare's avatar
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Literature Text

She sits in her usual chair,
her hands wrapped around her coffee cup for warmth.
It is unusually cold this morning.
I stir my spoon in my own mug;
the clash of metal and clay, creating the usual tinkering sound.
“Weather is bad today,” she says, without staring up from her newspaper.
“You should stay home.”
I grunt in acknowledgement.
The continuous sound of water droplets falling from the tap every few seconds--
I must remember to fix that.
The squeaks of old boards and shutters from our home--
The only comfort of life stirring in this house.
Everything as it has always been.
She takes a sip from her espresso.
She always liked it dark.
No sugar.
No milk.
No flavour.
No life.
“I‘m going out when the storm dies down,” I respond after a while.
She gazes at me with her exhausted and distant eyes.
“Will you be back tonight?”
It was an innocent question that I couldn't properly reply back.
She knows.
I get up and leave.
There are tears in her eyes,
and the coffees on the table turn cold.







1:39am
03/13/06
Sometimes, things just don't turn out as you expected.

***
This writing can be seen from many point of views, but each one will never be a happy ending.

I need opinions on whether it flows or not. :D
© 2006 - 2024 AN-Develare
Comments22
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AbbadonFlare's avatar
from never being in a "dating realtionship" i see this as a person leaving another, a departure into another realm of reality. thats jusk what i think anyways. I like the emotion. I was just wondering one more thing, why did you leave the comments to my poems blank? I'd just like to know. Thanks and have a nice day and or evening