Burning

This entry is for the Short Story Contest at Write Stuff.

The burning flame flows up high into the sky as I watch quietly. Black and white memories degrade itself into dark specks of ashes. Piece by piece I throw them into the flame, removing what was once us. It was not long ago that I have taken these memories. In fact this one - was from last week. We were riding a taxi to the airport. I was sending him off but I didn't want him to leave me so soon. He had just got home from his last business trip. He said it was an emergency so I had to let him go. I had took a shot of his cherubic face. Told him to smile but all I got was a turn of his lips resulting in a half-smile. I brushed off the odd feeling that I got from looking at his eyes.

I held on to him and begged him to come back soon. There were no tears in his eyes, all smiles as if it were any ordinary day. There was not a doubt that he was not coming back. He knew but did not tell me. I sensed something that he's not telling me. I asked him if something was wrong but he said it was nothing. Just kissed me on my cheek and walked off. I stared at his back until it disappeared into the crowd.

Now he's gone. As I watch the flames die down, I wonder why it was so easy for him to leave me. Why it took such a short time to make that decision. Two days he was home. Not only did he not unpack, he didn't even bother removing his grooming supplies like he usually do. He said he might have to leave again. He didn't even shave and had slept in his office. He said he had a lot of paper work and didn't want me to lose any sleep as I usually had to get up early for work. He was in his office the whole two days and then he got a call early in the morning and had to leave right away. I couldn't object and since he does this a lot, I thought nothing of it.

Three later later, he had sent me a letter saying he was not coming back. He said he does not love me anymore. He was too guilty to tell me in person. He had fallen in love with someone on one of his trips. Said he was sorry and hope I would forgive him for doing it this way. He hope we can still be friends. The letter was not hand-written but typed from his laptop, the kind of letters he usually sends to unwanted clients.

He left his dog, Fiji, a Basset Hound, who seem to hate me more now that he's gone. Tomorrow I will take him to the pounds. Maybe he'll find a more loving home. He doesn't want to be with me. Like his owner, he has grown tired of me.

The black ashes flow in the air as the night wind blows. It has gotten cooler in the evenings now. Another winter's coming. This one I will have to spend it alone. I throw a bucket of cold water on the ashes and watch it flow back down. I wonder what's burning in my heart as I do not feel the chill in the air.