Angela stood at the bedroom window, watching the driveway. She knew he would appear at any moment, with his bag in tow. Her tummy wrenched and dived and crunched over and over at every distraction that came from the street below.
An old man hobbled along the pavement, his old, lame dog trudging slowly behind. He tottered past the entrance to the driveway, then disappeared from view behind the large conifer that acted as a gatepost. She took another sip from her cold coffee as she watched, waiting. Finally, the old man hobbled out again from the other side of the tree.
She wasn’t sure exactly how long she had stood at the window. The sky was certainly a lot brighter than it had been – still grey and drizzly, but it was clear that the sun had risen behind that thick veil. She stood in her nighty, with her dressing down over it, tightly bound by the cord at the waist. Her eyes felt heavy, a gentle sting that told her she’d been there for a long time.
She heard, or rather felt, the front door slam downstairs. She quickly drew the blinds, and watched them swing in front of the glass.
The Thoughts that Colin has. 