That night

Was the end

It was cold

It was dark

It was miserable

It was over

The end so close to the beginning

The door shutting

The chain breaking

The end under a white cover

Snow pattering

Onto a dead end street

The last few sentences

She looks up into his eyes

But he doesn’t look into hers

He stands there parting his hair

She waits there freezing, no coat to protect her beauty

He stands in comfort, a plush winter jacket

She waits for a while before giving into

She forfeits, her journey on the game of love

She reaches for her pocket

And pulls out something

I look on

While I cannot tell what it is

There is a certain glint on the object

She looks one more time,

But his eyes are focused elsewhere

She walks away

Only for him to understand that he wanted her

He calls out but she continues walking

I see in the distance her hands have met another’s