Withered Heights

It’s a funny old life when you think about it. People come and go, go and come, never forgetting the people they leave behind. He never ever moved on, and never forgot how it felt to be loved, and to how it felt to have given all his love out his heart to someone, leaving his own desolate and empty… a void. Then, the only thing that had made it worth it, packed up into little bags, and climbing into a cab. Gone. He stood in that corridor for three hours, just watching the traffic go bye, a little like you and me now, only not so high up. I know why you’re here. It’s the same reason I am here. The same reason everyone comes here.

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