Everything about the weather is wrong. The sun is shining brilliantly in the clear blue sky, even while a storm ravages my soul. Chirping birds busy themselves near the stone bath, making a cheery fuss over the freshly blooming spring day. Even the blue tulips around my mailbox seem to dance in the light breeze.
It's all wrong. I would prefer rain falling steadily from a dark and angry sky, while lightning bolts pierce through the clouds like javelins. That, at least, would make sense.
With the perverse humor of the weather, Hunter strolls from the house with his last bag, whistling. Whistling! It is the final stitch unraveling from the tattered mess our relationship has become. He is happy to leave me. The last fifteen years meant so little to him that he can leave me behind humming a merry tune all the way. I watch him from the porch of our home that in an instant becomes just a house, a stack of bricks and mortar: a tomb of memories. He tosses his bag into the passenger seat as he climbs into his recently acquired cherry red coupé.
The last sound before he heads off into his life after me is the resolute slamming of the car door. It is the saddest thing I ever heard.Be sure to check out the other WoW posts here.