Cold

Word Count: 368

         I remember that day and how cold it was. Still fresh in my mind like a mountaineer on Everest. I couldn't breathe as I left home and set about walking towards my girlfriend's place. There was a quiet spot I liked to sit at when collecting my thoughts. By the time I had reached the park bench, everything was still as a wooden cross.
         I sat in my usual spot. There was still some pale light penetrating the thin clouds that kept away the cheer of a blue sky. I had it, but where? This numbness; I can't think.
         Alright, breathe...
         I've been through every drawer, door, and pocket. There's not a thing I haven't moved, and the last place I saw them was the nook in my nightstand. There hasn't been anyone else around to move... Oh no. It couldn't have been... no, no, no, no, no, No! I almost screamed, but kept my thoughts in and the deathly quiet out. Breathe.
         Why? When? I wasn't more than a moment, and she knew why I had them. They wouldn't have gotten her much; they were cheap! But they meant everything to me!
I choked back the would-be tears and rubbed my irritated eyes. Damn this wind.
         Breathe.
         Why didn't I suspect it was a bad decision to let her darken my door, and stay even as I was stepping out to the shop? Why am I this dumb!?
         Breathe.
         Regret was in every breath as I tried to stay calm.
Breathe.
         As a last form of comfort I could give myself, I hummed a tune and changed the words.

The air was cold, my heart colder still.
Leave her Johnny, leave her.
What's past is past and on you go.
And it's time for us to leave her.

         I went on like this for a few minutes in humming silence until I had mixed the verses every which way that I could manage. My head was tired and my belly in knots. The sun was setting the clouds on fire with a cold flame fanning the wind. Best get going. I don't want her to worry.
That memory is still preserved by the cold of that day.

Word Count: 368