With trembling fingers, he traces an invisible outline. One that has faded with time. He smiles. And the edges of his eyes crinkle up, the lines betraying what he's endured even before the tears came. They flow freely, as if to wash away the loss, regret, and pain.
He holds on to what's left, burying his face in it. He breathes in deeply, trying to take in a scent that's long gone, realizing what lingers is only his own. He wraps his arms tightly around himself in an empty embrace. The cool autumn steps into winter's chill, the bare branches outside his window reach out imploringly to the darkening sky.
