A Picture Is Worth How Many Words?

An overturned chair. A torn envelope. A letter. A set of keys. A silk scarf.

  Spilled coffee drips off the table and onto the floor into a puddle. A once neat letter with pristine script sits on the table; half the words are blotched by tears. He sits on the window sill, observing the lawn. The grass is so high he can hardly see the mailbox. It's so high, he can barely see her car. When she left, he was so overcome with loss, so hit with the fact that it was really happening, that he began to cry. He had stumbled into the chair and knocked over the coffee.

But now he was silent.

  There were too many memories in the letter she had written him. The stolen kisses, the passion, the...the silk scarf. The silk scarf he had given her. It suited her nicely, too. It was just what she liked: the colors were vivid, yet somehow muted- the blues and reds and pinks jumped at you whilst the tones of gray and black merely lingered in the background.

  And now he sits the sill, gazing at the blue sky. She picked a lovely day to end the relationship, he'd give her that. There's a nice summer breeze making it's way through the house, lightly teasing his arms and neck, as though it were a lover, calming him and telling him that all Will be well. He's so distracted at he almost doesn't hear the doorbell ring. He wearily picks himself up and make his way to the door. When he opens it, she's standing there.

  "I uh...I think I forgot my phone." She mutters, embarrassed. Her sandy blond hair is pulled in messiest bun and her embarrassed blue eyes stare intently at his shoes. He grimaces and steps inside, immediately spotting the white blackberry on the black marble counter. It's sitting on top of the scarf. He picks them both up and hands them to her.

  "The scarf isn't-" She begins,but stops at the pleading look on his face. She takes them both and leaves. He watches her go to her car, open the door, and get inside. It's a moment before she drives off. He watches her still she's gone.

  He steps back inside, closes the door,  and sighs, before moving to e kitchen and getting a paper towel to clean the coffee.