The Passing of Time

She folded the letter carefully between her fingers.

 

A soft sigh escaped her lips.

 

Etched in ink, the mournful words “I love you” left a scar in her eyes.

 

Before the end it was cast to the fire,

 

A half-life born of a withered dream,

 

Soot covering a forgotten tomorrow.

 

“No,” she whispered.

 

A smile crept through the shadows.

 

The closing door isolated the firelight.

 

With back turned to the night she vanished,

 

Tragedy following briskly in her footsteps.