In The Dark

Drink Coffee Write

I closed the door, scratching the back of my neck,
lifting my gaze down the dark corridor,
focusing on the nothingness raging in the distance.
A hollar echos but goes unanswered.
The empty conversation screams its woeful regret.
Candles flicker on the kitchen table beside a note.
I held it inches from my face, hoping it didn’t say what I’d knew it’d say, leaving me before she had a chance to pay the light bill.
She left me in the dark again.

Andrew Cyr

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Published by AC

I love to write.

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