I stare out the foggy, window. White appears to now be my favorite color. I step outside, stretching my right leg out the door first. It covers the shivering branches, the cracked frozen ground, and tips of my furry hood. My wrinkly, fingers don't stand a chance out in this weather. Ankles, and knees, bend quickly as i try to withstand my weight, but I can't. I'm too old. I'm too old to run, too old to jump, too old to dance. I'm too old to ever love again.
     My footsteps leave prints in the dusty snow, leading to my covered yard. I sit my little bum on the bench and watch. I watch the grass try to recover its frozen roots. That's my place. Oh how i miss that center, right over in the middle. Left step, right step, back, forward. My dancing was never good, but Nicholas always had his arm tight around my waist and made sure I was always close to him.
     I try to carry my weight up the stairs. My cheeks burning, turning a rose pink that slowly transforms into a firetruck red. My eyes squinting into droopy hooded eyes. Finally with a last puff, I enter my home. No, my house.
     The coat hanger finally is pleased to know its not alone. My toes adapt to the warmth of the house. Yes, the house. Home, sweet, home it is not. Nothing feels like home anymore. What is home? Because it is definitely not here. Home was with Nicholas.
     I drink my sweet porridge. But stop after three sips. My body is empty, but I can't take in no more. My throat won't let me. I let out a very congested cough. Harder and harder, as if I was choking. With a burning sensation I try to breathe. Little red spots appear all over the dining table. I grab the same sky blue towel that already knows its job. I scrub and lay down.
     My bed does not want me. It sees me always gloomy. It hates the negativity, so here I am by the window. Once again. But you see, the windows my best friend. It talks to me. No really, it does. I know it does because Nicholas always said it did. "Everyone and everything has a heart, you just need to find it. " He would never one day go without telling me this.  I believed him. We would laugh, cry, scream right in front of this window. Why, I asked it, it didn't know.
     But I did know one thing, it was never going to leave me and that's why I trusted it. I would always talk to my sisters and brothers. They were always by the sink, just 3 bowls. Two were pink and one was blue. They would always tell me how much they loved me.
     My bed, oh how my bed was the best thing that ever happened to me. It would tell me all its secret. How heavy it felt, how sad to know other body wasn't on it, and that meant Nicholas. My bed and I would conversate for hours and hours until we were both sleepy.
     But not my home doesn't feel like home. It feels like a house.  A lonely, big, cold house. People always tell me I'm crazy. That I need help. What help? I'm okay. That i need to go out meet new people, but I have all the friends I need at 86 years old. My window and my bed and my brothers and sisterss are there for me. There always at my house. Oh no, here it comes again, my cough won't stop.
     My white rug, is no longer its beautiful snow color. Its an evil red, that now shows on my knitted sweater. I walk to my window. I place my hand on it, and I feel it touching me. Nicholas will come back one day, I know he will. The window reminds me he is no longer here, hes in the sky. But I know he will come back down. He told me he had business to take care of. He was going to create our own restaurant that only served my famous porridge.
     In that restaurant, there would be a big dance floor. Where a slow song would be played, and we would just dance the night away. He would grab my hand and place my head on his chest and tell me I'm his only one, and I mean more than the world to him.
     But I promised the window, he will come back. He told me so himself. We just have to wait, its really busy up in the sky, you know a lot of people need to do the impossible.
     I grab my throat from continuing its volcano explosion. I scurry to the bathroom, but my legs don't make it. I trip and fall right in front of the dark, blue bathroom door. I open the toilet seat and see the swirling of clear and dark red water move in front of my eyes. I grasp the corner of the sink, and wash my hands with the lavender scent Nicholas always loved. I turn to the mirror, rub my hands on top of my scalp, wishing it was as bare as it was. But it is.
     Nicholas always told me how beautifully my head was. How it was shaped like a peach and he didn't see another one so round as mine. Oh how I wish he came back faster so I could have one more kiss with him, one more dance before he left, but I know he will return to fill me with happpiness and joy, and the most affectionate love.
    My body gets fragile. My body collapses to the floor, I try to grib the sink but my hands slowly let go, my head bangs to the floor, and the lights go out.