Hiets

"What is to become of this wretched place when the one person worth living is now gone?" – the words being spoken as a breath of ice out of a core of heat. Bitter, that is what the woman's stare out of the window was, just as herself. "Alide," the words formed a small cloud of dampened air, "Berthe is not the only one to leave," spoke she calmly. Berthe was the – now gone - friend of this woman who never wasted any words, never spilled anything. She let her face do the talking for her: you just needed the insight to read through the layer of porcelain on it.   "Alide," she dampened the window with a single name, "you owe me nothing