And on that day everything was shining. Beads of dust glittered, golden in the February sun.
The stray cat named Vincent was perched on the high grass, stretching and licking his feline frame.
The orange roses danced inside their jug, praising the halo of morning sunlight hanging in the kitchen.
Although it was 11 in the morning students dragged their mouldy couches out to the front lawn, blaring Chainsmokers and letting their half empty cans fall and roll onto the footpaths.
But now it’s December, deep and dark and my windows are dripping in tears. Dew sticks to the grass like mould, soggy like our memories.
Not cat visits this house, not even a confused, urban fox.
Push the vile against my chest, make it stop. Tug and twist at my trembling heart until it all comes out.
Anguish spills and spews into the misty, fog soaked air.
My tears are frozen in time.
Can I fix it? Please let me fix it!