Remembering Sunday, He Falls To His Knees.

Two Eggs Don't Last Like The Feeling Of What He Needs.

The rain fell from the sky, coming down in buckets over the city. As the droplets fell, they encountered a lone man sitting on the sidewalk. It was past two in the morning, and the bottles next to him indicated he wasn’t in his right mind. He held in his hands a picture which was slowly getting soaked by the water coming down, but he didn’t move.
He’d spent all night looking for her, the ring stashed in his pocket. All the neighbours he’d woken up had either glared at him angrily and slammed the door or shook their heads sadly and said she’d moved away.
She couldn’t have moved away though, he’d only spoken to her on Sunday. It didn’t seem to make sense. And then he’d remembered the looks in their eyes as they said she moved away. That wasn’t pity. It was something else.
And here he was, with the drink, and the picture slowly becoming a crumpled mess.
It was time to go home.