When He Was Gone.

She raised her head off of the pillow. It was morning, she sensed it in her stomach. But it was dark as pitch. The wind howled outside her window, whipping past with a violent force. She was alone. She knew it mere moments after waking. She still wasn't used to this, waking up without him here. She stretched a slender arm across the bed and felt the cool fabric of the pillow next to her. He hadn't been gone so long that his scent was gone, and she wanted to hold on to that forever, to continue to breathe him in as long as she could.

She didn't know if she would ever be able to bear changing the sheets, washing his scent away, clearing the bed of all signs he had ever slept there with her. Her stomach tightened and lurched at the very thought. No, she wouldn't do that, not yet. She inched her body across the bed and wrapped her arms around his pillow, breathing in deeply as she placed her face down into the soft place where he used to lay his head. And there, smelling him, missing him, sobbing, she screamed out in grief.




*This is just a piece of fiction. Came to my mind and I wanted to write it down. I thought to use this journal as a place to write my poetry and fiction, rather than my thoughts. You can comment if you like. It may not be good to your mind, but thats ok. I may add more, I may not. Who knows.*