She sits on the couch, watches the fish swim round the bowl.
The bird caged and in the corner makes another of its kissing sounds.
She doesn't really see the fish, she sees through them. The bird
just one of the very few sounds in the house.
Getting up she shuffles to the kitchen for yet another glass of
water. Her thirst unquenchable, has been for weeks now. Back to the
couch. Lighting a cigarette she looks closely around the room.
Dares herself to find something different...something of worth.
With emptiness she sees nothing she has not seen yesterday, last
When the grandfather clock chimes another hour, she allows
herself the luxury of just a few tears to wet her face. She does not
count the chimes as time has no relevance here, in this room.
Glancing down she sees her glass has been emptied. Up to the kitchen,
pour another glassful, she goes back to the couch.
She understands there little time left, so she sits there.
Yesterday, last week....tomorrow?