The sun is setting.
I can’t think of a more appropriate analogy to end the hell that is today.
The sun is setting.
After seven years, the sun is setting.
My world is aflame, collapsing in big clouds of ash and dust around me.
I stand here quietly watching it fall apart. Numb. Stoic. In shock.
A tear clears a path on my face and falls on a small bump in my finger
where your ring used to be.
After seven years, the sun is setting.
The last of the golden rays are on the plush couch, the expensive furniture, the empty apartment.
I touch the small bump.
And remember you, Teddy Bear.
