He left and darkness fell.
For days she hid, reluctant to share the news. Plates collected in the sink, bags of rubbish gathered by the door. She ignored the red light flashing on the telephone. The candles she burned did not mask the smells of stale food and unwashed body. Her flat became a temple of the lost forever.
One day the pain ebbed a little, and she opened the window for air before returning to her nest on the settee. The twittering song of a visiting finch filled the silence. She opened her eyes, ready for the new day.
A shout out to the amazing Rochelle at http://www.rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com. She organises the photo prompts and links for the Friday Fictioneers.
Authors write a piece of 100 word fiction, prose or poetry based on a photo prompt and exchange comments on each other’s work. If you are a writer of short fiction, join in and let your imagination feed us with your stories.