"Are you tired of me?"

the train passes, and the windows rattle against their frames
the silence it leaves is deafening

she doesn't know if he heard her question or not
he turns the page of the newspaper without looking up
his hair still damp from the shower he took and the white sunlight
warms the accents of his skin

"Love?"

his phone rings beside him, and he holds up a finger

"Hello?"

he gets up, slides the patio door shut behind him

the sweater he is wearing is the same colour
of the sky the day
they had their first kiss

it is juxtaposed
against the grey clouds

she moves from the door way
puts the kettle on

nausea
her hands tremble as she rests them
on the cold counter

the counter is holding her up

she can hear his voice
she misses it
she can hear it
she still misses it

the door slides
and squeaks
he promised to fix it
a week ago

she keeps her back to him
reaches for the tea ***
the loose leaves

she hears him sit down

she stops

the newspaper rustles

she closes her eyes

the clock ticks

her heart beats

he coughs

her heart stops

the kettle whistles on the stove
she waits

he gets up
and turns off the gas

"Weren't you going to get that?"

she moves away
the  sliding door open and closes
complains once
twice

the air is icy against her skin

she looks behind her

he is sitting down
again