Dudley’s face is a horror in the frosted glass. Her lies were creeping back into his consciousness. All he had was some promise of a future together. Some bullshit she’d laid on him a thousand times when he was stupid enough

There was a cold breeze blowing. She walked along the pier on her way back to his house in the twilight. A fear of the unknown ran through her veins, her stomach was uneasy. She leaned down as if to throw up.… but her reflection made her snap out of it. She looked so tired.

You face an epic fighter before you. You eye them from a distance. They seem to be as cool as you are, their face straight and their stand firm. The clock seems to tick slower and then, stop completely. Nothing moves in the scenery. All you can hear are your own wild heartbeats.

Story unwritten. The pen rested at the table all alone and the ink bottle was stashed somewhere. The candle has burned out, leaving a small hint of smoke in the air. There was paper in an old wooden cupboard left untouched. The mind was dull, with no new ideas. Maybe it was time?

Jerry glanced down at the photograph in his hand, then back up again at the woman sitting alone at the back of the cafe.