skylark

she wakes up and finds herself alone, with the vague, but still warm imprint of a human body beside her. he didn't say goodbye...or maybe he did. does it matter? she stares up at the ceiling and pulls her blanket a little higher, trying to remember the feeling. but it is a different kind of warm.

an hour on the train, enough time for him to come up with a fresh excuse, or maybe he'll use the same one he did yesterday, and the day before. and the day before. she lets her mind drift, carelessly, and wonders where home is for him, but then stops herself. no point thinking about things that don't take you anywhere but down. right?

in her head the thoughts swirl and coalesce into a song, because that is what she does.