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Awake the man laid on a cold bed. She had long since left his side, but he still clung to the idea that he could still feel her warmth. It’s always the last day of summer and he felt as if he had been left out in the cold with no key to get back inside. But so it went. The rumblings of a nearby train track reminded him of the emptiness in his stomach. How long had it been since his last meal? The pain would ultimately subside, only to be replaced by another type.

The feeling of longing. Of yearning to be with someone who moved four hundred miles away to chase butterflies down a winding trail. The butterflies aren’t really butterflies though.