his
April 5th, 2010
He flopped down on his mattress, grabbing his coffee from the floor. His feet burrowed under the comforter as he inhaled the strong, bitter fumes from the mug. He sipped gingerly, his eyes casting about the room.
His glasses lay within arm’s reach, his phone right beside them. Soon, he would face the day, but for the moment – for a long, luxurious moment – he lay here, on his mattress under his warm comforter on his bare wood floor in his empty living room with his fresh coffee. He watched rays cast by the morning sun creep ever-so-slowly toward him.
A lone box, all that remained of her, sat by the door.
