He walked outside; the air was crisp.
He hadn’t felt air like this for quite some time in December.
It forced him to think of years ago when the air felt this sharp;
A time that stung to take off the shelf, brush off, and remember.
How was it that so many years had past, yet the pain still felt so fresh?
How was it that he now was twice the age of hers when she departed
this world; this beautiful, twisted, miraculously cruel world.
Nonsense… injustice. Impossible to go back to the start.
The snow began to fall. The sun began to shine.
It had been such a long time before this with darkness and rain.
He still looks through the same eyes as when he was a child.
His heart still beats. His lungs still breathe. Inside he is the same.
Walking home to his front door, he looked up at the sky that night.
It felt like it had been awhile since the clouds parted and the stars shone on himself.
If you ever want perspective, just look at the stars.
It was now time. He placed her back on the shelf.
— T. D. O’Grady