Two quarters on a table. Some nickels and dimes. Worthless pennies. A fingernail file and a toenail clipper next to a necklace with a Padre Pio medallion hanging from it. A small picture of a woman dressed in blue with brunette hair. A copy of Ulysses.

The lamp is turned down low. A yellow hue covered in shade. He swivels sideways from left to right in an old orange chair with wheels on it, leans his head back, and stares at the ceiling. There are cobwebs in the corners.

He picks up the picture. The old man kisses it, mutters some words, and wipes his red eyes. She left some time ago.

She went quietly one night in the bed where they slept. His arms were around her. He kissed her bald head. If you must leave me, then leave me, he said. She closed her eyes and was gone.

He said goodbye and played her favorite song, Lush Life by Billy Strayhorn. He  mumbled through the words and realized he was now alone. A white sheet covered her.

Years pass. Quarters on a table. Nickels and dimes. Worthless pennies. A picture of his true love. The things we hold on to. These things dear to us.

” Romance is mush. Stifling those who strive. I’ll live a lush life in some small dive. And there I’ll be as I rot with the rest. Of those whose lives are lonely too…” Lush Life by Billy Strayhorn