Elenore

Elenore sat in the diner booth letting her cup of coffee go cold. The colour in her cheeks have all been flushed out. All she did was just stare out at the window as passersby rushed with umbrellas drawn. The droplets of rain resting comfortably on the glass made a pattern only distinguishable by God Himself.

The waitress walked towards the booth and offered to refill Elenore's cup. She silently refused. The waitress rested her hand on Elenore's right hand and patted it gently. Elenore smiled and made eye contact. The waitress smiled in reply and walked to her next table. Elenore looked back at her right hand and saw the wedding ring she had on. All the memories came flooding back: her wedding night, her first home, her first soon-to-be child. Now that ring only possessed those memories, nothing more.

David had left her. He left her when he couldn't handle the baby news. He left her with the next twat he could find.

Elenore didn't feel swell anymore.