I was aware of what to expect, it was not the first time.
I reached the house looking for a way to postpone that moment.
I thought about what else there was to do, maybe I should buy the milk, wash the car or rent a movie. I just light a cigarette to smoke sitting on a wall.
Magritte, I had seen from afar, I was pulled over while meeting and nervously puffs of nicotine was spinning around her legs, looking puzzled. He knew that I was not usually wait that long before you open the door. She mentioned a strangled meow
as to urge them, stared at him and decided to pull the keys from his pocket. In
down the stairs I began to feel a lump in my throat, I knew, I was expecting.
I took courage and opened the door. The house was empty, cold, sad as ever.
In fact nothing had changed, I lived alone for years and that house had always been under the same conditions but at that time was empty. The furniture, clothes piled up, the cats' bowls, paintings, water stains were the same, but at that time was empty.
I knew something was missing.
After his departure had arrived the van of the disappointments of the company of losers load words, kisses, caresses, tears and laughter in those two years we had our union furniture collection.
There was a move that had left a feeling of overwhelming emptiness in the house and soul.
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