In the ensuing days…
I wept at the lonely echoes of my feet on creaking wooden floors. At the morning sun and how it crept slowly like magnificent black spiders upon the blinds. And At the vast and impenetrable grey forest that held the things I still loved.
And I drank tears with my cereal or mixed it with the memories of days that once bled colours, tracing back steps to breathe them in deeper.
And Then, somehow, after many a tear-soaked day, I would smile.