All the traces she once left behind have been covered by the dust of time.
Sometimes he wondered, how was he supposed to live the next ten, twenty, thirty years if things continued this way?
He placed Sam by the bedside, turned over, and lowered his head to sniff an old dress.
It was a dress Norris Moore had once worn, the scent had almost faded away, and he had to sniff hard to faintly detect the familiar fragrance of her body.
He didn't know when he started needing Norris Moore's old belongings on the bed to be able to sleep.
Norris Moore was dead, dead and gone, leaving nothing unresolved.
She left him alone in this hell, making him suffer every day, every hour, even every minute.
She was dead, but she lived on as an eternal, open wound in his heart.
He once would have died for her, yet it was he who personally took her life.
He turned off the lights and closed his eyes in the quiet room, alone.
The hole in his heart that leaked air always seemed so vast at night.
