There was a fan blowing on the body laying next to him. Blonde hair was tossed just a bit. She talked in her sleep. Saying words of forgiveness. Some kind of healing was taking place. The young woman rolled over, grabbing more blanket. He was left very little. Just a bit of white sheet. The old man turned away from her, faced the alarm clock on the night stand. Red numbers read 3:30. The moon shined through his window. The cat purred on the floor next to him. He stroked it softly as she continued speaking of old days when life was less complex. Or, was she just babbling. Talking non-sense. He tried to pull more covers, but, it was of no use. She kept them all. Just like everything. She kept em all.

The smell of coffee lingered down the hallway at the crack of morning. The old man liked watching the burning star rise above the lake. Without much sleep, he got out of bed. Ran cold water over his lined face and breathed in the smell of coffee from the kitchen. As he poured himself a cup, he noticed she was outside on the deck in her robe talking to herself. He stood by the door and listened. Said she was not happy with how her life had turned out. Said she never should’ve married the old man. Everyone told her it was a mistake. She didn’t listen. Women rarely listen. She told em all that she loved him. She loved the idea of love. The house, sharing a bed, omlettes in the morning, but she wasn’t in love with him. She fooled herself. That’s what we do in life; we fool ourselves.

His wrinkled hand started to turn the knob. He noticed she was now laughing. She was laughing at him. She was laughing at them as a couple. Two people couldn’t be more different, she thought. As she stood up she noticed he was looking at her. The old man turned away from the door. Walked back to the bedroom and sat on the bed placing his gray hair into his hands. He was crying. And her, she remained on the deck looking at the back door. Wondering what kind of trouble she had caused this time.

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