It was one of those stormy nights again. She looked out at the night sky, her head resting against the plane of glass, its cool surface refreshing her. She was glad she was inside, sheltered from the weathers brewing hostility. It felt good she wasnt the only one suffering, there had to be someone out there, trapped in the rain, another lost soul searching for their way.
Her hand traced its way down the window, the lamp behind her, making the raindrops sparkle. It was a time to reminisce, on her lost loves, her wrong decisions, how she ended up here, now but a shell of her former self. She laughed out loud at lifes little ironies, the way it tricked you into a false sense of sercurity, then turned and kicked you while you were down. Now she had to carry this burden alone, her other half lost, her isolation gained.
As she sat at the bay window, and the storm closed in on her, she stared at the picture of his face, it still sat on her dressing table as it had for the last 2 years. Only when she moved that picture, would she finally know it was over. She drew her skirt around her and pulled a cushion to her chest and hugged it in a vice grip, finally giving in to the tears. The began lightning illuminating her tear streaked face, the thunder roared, and with a thud, the picture tipped over and shattered on the floor.