Painted birds

When I got home from work she had been and gone.

I knew that today was the day, but seeing the starkness and the… emptiness of the place when I stepped through the front door was still a shock.

The only remaining furniture was the bed and nightstand, a small kitchen table, and my stereo tucked inside its maple cabinet with my records.

There were no lamps which was ok because even thought it would be dark soon, sitting in the shadows meant I would be spared having to see myself cry.

The refrigerator held a half bottle of Passito Rosso. I took it into the living room and sat on the floor and noticed a forgotten painting of a two cardinals perched on a branch of a leafless oak tree that she had painted for our fifth anniversary. The last remnant of a love lost.

For GirlieOnTheEdge‘s Six Sentence Stories for June 13th.

PROMPT WORD: REMNANT