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Description
That night was filled with darkness. The doorbell rang, reverberating through the silent house like a gunshot in an empty field. The door was pulled open to reveal a priest adorned in his formal black robes, who slid into the room uninvited, like a shadow among gravestones, and he slowly bowed his head. "I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. He was a good man." His words, however, fell on deaf ears as her hand slipped from the door handle. They could all see their breath hanging delicately, frozen in the air. The dark, cold house was only a sign of the coming winter.

The days were filled with paperwork and several sudden bouts of icy tears. Their pale eyes brimmed with sadness not merely for his passing, but for their own lifestyles' end. After all, it was hard to miss someone who was never truly there. But even invisibility comes with growing bills and an everlasting debt of its own.

The months were filled with heavy boxes and dirty, perfumed apartments. Muttered promises of a better life and wide smiles that betrayed the growing seeds of doubt were exchanged as if they were merely pennies picked up from the frozen street. Odd jobs sprung up to support their quickly growing panic. It seemed like they could never do enough to bring the needed stability back around their way. Always more bills to pay; always more work to be done... always more and never enough.

The years were filled with questions. What could have been? If a father's hand had reached out to reassure his shaking child. If a mother's words had not cut to the bone, and then sliced through it, severing limbs without a moment's notice. If the children had been quiet, and well-behaved, and had not tested the waters the only way they knew how; with their actions. What really could have been if the world had been a different place?

That night was filled with darkness. The doorbell rang, reverberating through the silent house. She opened the door to a priest who walked in without an invitation. "I heard he came home last night. Thought I'd pay a visit." The dark, cold house was only a sign of the coming of winter.

Description
That night was filled with darkness. The doorbell rang, reverberating through the silent house like a gunshot in an empty field. The door was pulled open to reveal a priest adorned in his formal black robes, who slid into the room uninvited, like a shadow among gravestones, and he slowly bowed his head. "I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. He was a good man." His words, however, fell on deaf ears as her hand slipped from the door handle. They could all see their breath hanging delicately, frozen in the air. The dark, cold house was only a sign of the coming winter.

The days were filled with paperwork and several sudden bouts of icy tears. Their pale eyes brimmed with sadness not merely for his passing, but for their own lifestyles' end. After all, it was hard to miss someone who was never truly there. But even invisibility comes with growing bills and an everlasting debt of its own.

The months were filled with heavy boxes and dirty, perfumed apartments. Muttered promises of a better life and wide smiles that betrayed the growing seeds of doubt were exchanged as if they were merely pennies picked up from the frozen street. Odd jobs sprung up to support their quickly growing panic. It seemed like they could never do enough to bring the needed stability back around their way. Always more bills to pay; always more work to be done... always more and never enough.

The years were filled with questions. What could have been? If a father's hand had reached out to reassure his shaking child. If a mother's words had not cut to the bone, and then sliced through it, severing limbs without a moment's notice. If the children had been quiet, and well-behaved, and had not tested the waters the only way they knew how; with their actions. What really could have been if the world had been a different place?

That night was filled with darkness. The doorbell rang, reverberating through the silent house. She opened the door to a priest who walked in without an invitation. "I heard he came home last night. Thought I'd pay a visit." The dark, cold house was only a sign of the coming of winter.