It wasn’t everyday that things felt this damp and down. It wasn’t like he needed to be someplace, or anywhere for the matter. A part of him felt lost. He was functioning on autopilot half the time. He needed to fulfill the usual routines at the cafe, which he didn’t mind. It kept his mind off of the ebbing feeling of emptiness that most often waited for him when he got home, like a dog waiting for its master. Just this time, it wasn’t something he was looking forward do. There was no warmth after that. It was just a house and not a home.











