As he walked, the clicking of his shoes was the only sound he could hear. The place looked desolate today, even though it was the same place he was coming to for the past 17 years. Some sort of emptiness filled his stomach, and he felt a knot form in his throat.
He went into the kitchen to get some water. For the first time he noticed the fresh white rose sitting prettily in the vase. On the fridge. Was it even a vase? It looked more like a wine bottle. It probably was. His eyes dropped down to the freezer door. It told tales of their travels. As he scanned through the souvenirs, his eyes rested on one. This one had their picture. The edges were rough and uneven, and paper peeked out from the glass pebble. He remembered the time she pestered him to buy that transparent adhesive. She called it her "Souvenir project". He smiled sadly. "The best part of travelling is returning home" one of them said. Home. He felt so far away from home. It looked colorful, with all the magnetic slabs, scribbling pad, post-it notes. It also looked cluttered, just the way she liked it. It makes things look real, she used to say. He had never agreed with her then.
A sad smile appeared on his face. It amused him how he noticed the details now. After she was
gone.
His thoughts went back to the time they saw countless TV series on that couch. House of cards, Breaking bad, Quantico, Narcos, Game of thrones, Frasier, BBT, Friends, Desperate housewives. They had it all .. warm cozy cuddles to love making. Silly arguments to big fights... lazy afternoons to busy late nights. It might all come to an end now. They were staring at an uncertain future, trying hard to hold the pieces together, but it was falling apart, bit by bit. She was gone, to try and fix one of the pieces.
The tinkling sound of the wind chime brought him back from his reverie. He gathered himself, went into the bedroom and lay down, staring at the empty closet that once was full with her colorful clothes.
