"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