It was late. So late that she has already lost track of everything. Like it was never going to be tomorrow.

'I wish time would just stop, you know.. I wish there was nothing else from now.'

He smiled briefly, then reached to put out his cigarette in the heart-shaped ashtray she gave him last year.
'I've always thought you were the romantic type. I read it in your eyes when we met at that bar. Were you always like this?'

Her eyes dropped slowly when she laughed... 'I never was!'

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And neither of them needed to know any more. They quietly understood that it was not her lying in these sheets next to him, but another. It was not her wearing the over-sized top and her hair down. She had been left at the door, next to the suitcase of crumpled shirts and high hills, where her logic and reason were also forgotten.
An empty vessel had taken her place, wandering, patiently waiting for him to take the helm once more.

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