She glanced quickly over her right shoulder as she departed, the words pale in the morning air beside the door.
It was a pull. An extraction. Disconnecting from something alive and humming with energy.
Her departure pulled skin, tore muscle, left him in the void. A blown out candle.
It didn't matter that the rest of the day was amongst strangers, in the mist of a blown out hurricane crossing the country. The sun was just a white spot, a light behind the sheets, no warmth or cream-colored afternoon for him.
Rather, low clouds narrowing the views, diminishing the heights and pushing him further downwards.
Like pulling an arm out of its socket, like the sound a light bulb makes when it burns out. Perhaps unscrewed slowly out of a lamp. Either way, she was in him and then she was gone.
But he could still feel her there. And it hurt and he kept trying to soothe it and it was invisible.
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