Short-Story

I made coffee in the morning, it's already half past three in the afternoon, the coffee is cold. Marcus will not come, he never comes and every day I make him a coffee.

Today there were three, in case he wanted to invite her, but that didn't work either.

I took a photo of the absence, of the reproach. Definitely the best way to know if you love someone is losing that person.

Someone is knocking on the door, I do not know who is it, but it's not Marcus, it is never him.