Gypsy Wind

She straddled the threshold. Her worn leather suitcase had stains and patches, but it was the only constant in her life. The strange wind called her name, but so did he. Standing there in his gray pajama bottoms begging her not to go, he wasn’t supposed to be awake. His blue eyes pleaded with her, and she was his for a moment. The wind whispered her name again. She knew what she had to do. Yes, she might hate herself in the morning, but tonight had to be done. She raised her arm, took aim, and she pulled the trigger.