empty

It is dark, I reach for the light switch and find it does not work. I have the key in my hand. I fumble for the lock, open the door and enter.It is just as I expected, the furniture arranged neatly, the summer night fragrant and the curtains billowing in the wind. I smile to myself, knowing it is you who creaked those windows open, not willing all that dust and mustiness upon me. I arrange myself on my side of the aged worn-out sofa. The springs sing out, I place the glasses on the low table and wait.I do not have to wait long. I know exactly when you come and occupy the empty seat across me: we raise our glasses in a toast and smile into our lives. Like we have been doing for the last twenty-one years."All is not lost", I hear you say, wistfully, almost to yourself. And I find myself smiling through my tears . Unable to say all I came to sayand for which there are no words anyway......
And when I close the door behind me, the walls heave a sigh.All that remains are two dust rings on the table.And a room full of empty.