Item: a broken heart

Alice stepped into the room, filling the small space with her presence. Her eyes danced blue and beautiful, like waves crashing on a beach. She was vibrant, vivacious, barely contained energy rippling beneath almost luminous skin.

“I will never love you again,” she whispered, soft as gently falling rain. “I will never love you. . .”

I moved toward her, confusion gripping my mind, my blood, replaced by cold fear, pumping through a heart withering toward oblivion. I needed to touch her, to feel the soft warmth that was Alice. It was too late, I knew. She was gone, forever.

The air burned my skin, my eyes, with horrible realization. My heart collapsed in upon itself, forming a black hole of infinite density deep within the middle of me.

“I will always love you,” I muttered, the light of the room beginning to bend toward me. “Always.”

Alice stepped out of the room, leaving it completely empty.

- Transcribed by Richard Cody, 2005 -