The fan spins. Circles. Breathes.
A car speeds past. Faster. Louder.
The steam evaporates. The voices murmur. The smoke rises.

Stop.

Our eyes locked. Forms frozen. Lungs stilled.
I look straight through the windows leading down into your soul.
I find nothing.
Pale, empty light somehow creeps through the heavy grey blanket in the  sky and floats dimly through the cafe window.
The cold coffee in front of me just sits there.

Play.

The noise resumes. The people move.
But I do not and neither do you.
I would say "we", but there is none of that anymore.

Stop.

I want so badly to hold on, to reach down into the depths of the darkness and pull you out, hold on tight and never know that darkness again.

Play.

But there is nothing left down there to hold on to.
So I stand and walk away.

*Stop.