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Wrapped
in
a
thick
robe,
feet
curled
under
her,
she
holds
a
brandy
snifter
and
watch's
the
dying
embers
in
the
fireplace.
Slowly
she
raises
her
soft
brown
eyes
and
stares
at
the
table,
set
for
two,
her
best
china
and
crystal,
glistening
silver,
tapered
candles
burned
down
and
finally
snuffed
out.
She
remembers
the
huge
"steak
for
two"
she
was
marinating
,and
slowly
walking
to
the
kitchen,
she
wraps
it
and
puts
it
in
the
freezer.
Going
to
the
window,
she
draws
back
the
lacy
curtains
and
again
sees
only
piles
of
drifted
snow,
and
more
falling,
weightless,
one
after
another
they
flutter
to
the
ground
and
become
huge
drifts,
blocking
a
clear
path
to
the
door,
or
road
to
her
home.
Like
the
pain
of
their
relationship,
little
hurts,
forgetfulness,
not
"so
subtle
reminders"
of
what
he
perceives
as
her
flaws.
Little
hurts,
small
things,
that
pile
up
while
she
covers
them
with
a
soft
laugh,
and
hides
tears
with
a
smile.
And
still
she
hopes,
she
dreams,
and
she
leaves
a
light
in
the
window,
a
window
in
her
heart
and
soul,
and
prays
this
hurt,
this
pile
up
of
disappointments
and
pain,
like
the
drifted
snow,
will
pass.
become
only
a
memory,
and
her
love
will
return,
knowing
he
has
hurt
her,
yet
loving
her,
returning
her
love,
he
will
return.
She
leaves
a
light
in
the
window,
and
hopes
he
returns
before
her
love,
like
the
beautiful
tapered
candles,
burns
down
and
is
snuffed
out
by
disappointment.
Slowly
she
opens
her
eyes
to
a
new
dawn.
The
sun
shining
bright
in
a
powder
blue
sky,
and
she
watch's
the
gentle
doe
graze
as
squirrels
play
in
a
majestic
oak
tree.
The
hurt
is
gone,
the
disappointment
,
dulled
by
acceptance
that
he
has
gone
back
to
another.
That
she
never
really
had
his
love,
only
empty
promises,
and
with
acceptance
she
knows,
at
last,
Thank
God,
at
last
she
is
free.
Copyright
Aradia/2002
all
rights
reserved
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