He brought his boots over to the sofa and sat himself on it, carefully tying the laces tightly.
Next to him was his dirty plate, his empty glass, a full ashtray. He stood up.
She wanted to tell him not to go, that she did love him, regardless of all he’d done wrong.
They’d never been close.
He left the room. She stood up and followed him to the front door, about to open her mouth to tell him it wasn’t his fault, and that he should stay.
The door slammed shut.
“Bye” she whispered.
This was for DAY 5 of the Writing 101 challenge. I decided that rather than write a letter I’d write about the absence of one, the challenge here was to keep it as brief as possible so I wrote this post in under 100 words.