The female protagonist in this serial story showed up this morning along with her best friend. They told me that it was time to make something happen – and offered this.
That was the last of it. Kelly had just headed downstairs with a bag bulging with my shoes.
I walked slowly through the apartment. I never imagined that I would live in a beautiful brownstone with high ceilings, warm plaster walls, and glowing wooden floors. It was used to be a daily pleasure to wake up here, read in the sun on the rug in front of the bay window, and laugh over dinner with Alex.
I laid my keys beside the envelope. Kelly was all over me to write down everything that I wanted to tell Alex, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Why put into writing what you had to say from your heart?
No, it was better this way, simple, direct, and clean.