The man took a slow deep drag on his cigarette. The sunset was fiery-red against the warm evening backdrop. He exhaled, thinking about what he had just heard, what she had just told him, breathing out in time with his thoughts. The smoke floated up towards the dim porch light.
"So you're not coming back." his voice flat.
The woman shook her head, her makeup smudged and sodden from crying all night.
He glanced down at the scratched wooden floor and rubbed the back of his head with a calloused hand. The small glass table was the only witness to their conversation, the deck devoid of other furniture.
He grunted softly and continued. "Well, okay."
"Okay?" She shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
"Yes, okay."
For the first time in years he noticed how her long wavy hair danced around her sharp cheekbones. Her glossy skin added a nice touch to her rapture blue eyes.
" I will always love you." He barely said.
She turned to leave, aged boards creaking beneath her slight frame. Just outside the threshold of the room she hesitated, pale fingers caressing the doorframe,
"I can't, I just can't." His gaze rose to the back of her head. She turned, still holding the frame, but couldn't look at him. "I..." She stopped. "You understand."
He said nothing but knew that he really did understand. Her eyes flitted towards his but fell short of a reunion. She exited the porch, her vibrant pink skirt hurrying after her, and the man turned to face the shore. He rested his elbows on the weathered wooden railing and stared. His blank eyes took in nothing. The water's usually blue jubilant expression was now a moronic dull in his eyes.
" I don't deserve better." He muttered to himself.
He looked at himself and saw a man with parched skin and blood flecked eyes. His fingers were lanky and gnarled. His hair was not any better. A sudden splash in the water demanded his recognition. A sea otter, shell on its belly, rock in its hands, preparing supper. He watched the diligent animal fix itself a meal. Who would crack his oysters now?
He finished his cigarette, flicked it over the rail. The butt glowed warm on the sand and he studied at it as he drew another from his breast pocket. He realized that he needed to pee, but instead closed his eyes. He visualized the house, his house, walked through every room noting every detail and committing it to memory. He opened his eyes and sighed. Sticking the cigarette between his lips and pausing briefly to light it. A intense beating on the door caused the frail hinge to snap. A lady with sun bleached hair and masses amount of makeup stood wide eyed before him.
" I can pay for that."
He just looked at her taking in every detail. Her full red lips, and long slender body.
" who are you?"
" Sorry, I am here as your councillor to get you through these rather crummy days."
He looked to the blemished wood panels ashamed, then back into her jubilant eyes. Her facial expressions had changed dramatically in that time frame of 2 minutes. Eyes submissive, wrinkles covering the forefront of her eyes. What once was a upbeat smile had turned to an indistinct frown. Trying to steady herself on her blazing red heels, anything not to look at him.
" How do you know about me?"
Slowly her head raised in recognition as she gradually lowered her pasty hand into the briefcase. She pulled out a old file, corners scored and still had a faint smell of coffee. Her hand was shaking as she casually passed the file over to him. He opened it only to see his x-wife's picture. She was not smiling, her mouth exposed and hands gashed. Her eyes bloodshot and wide, hair matted with crisp red blood that pooled around her fragile body.
"she's dead."
