Nothing Is Priceless

"I will not cry - I will stand tall and proud" She says outloud in the vacant space. She wears the clothes of someone defeated. Outside in the dark on a quiet street staring at the rendezvous spot she sat alone. Secret meeting of lovers in the middle of the night. It was the perfect night - the shifting breeze rolled across the shoulders inviting, and the bright Moon cast a glow across the freshly watered lawn. The crisp smell of the air was seductive. Only tonight, she was on the outside... knowing behind the blue door and down that hall inside that little house someone else was with him. With the sadest smile placed across her face she shook her head. She had been a fool. She just needed to know it was true. Like the bright lights of vegas - she saw who he was in one brilliant fragment of time. Images projected before her tired eyelids of laughter, stolen moments, places they had gone, and talks they had shared. A human connection shattered like glass thrown on the pavement. It was done. Choices. She was done.

He knew he was caught. He stared out through the window in the dark room trying to see the figure inside the car. He couldn't see her - he couldnt be sure she was in there- but he knew. He knew the way the nights moon knows how to cast shadows. Frozen, he watched as the car started with a violent hum breaking the silent calm of the slumbering street. She didn't see him standing there. Of that he could be sure. He can almost hear a whisper as if she is there in the room with him "The choices we make... dictate the life we lead." Some moments change everything. This moment would. Doomed - he would lose again. He has lost so much in his wasted life. Choices. He watches the car fade into the night and after a moment he turns - walking back down the hall . Walking through the bedroom door he stares down at the girl waiting for him. She stretchs out her arms to him. Choices. Laying back down he knows he will not sleep again tonight. This night would haunt him. Shadows would shift on the wall before him playing images of all he had lost. His own worst enemy... was his very soul.