She was his habit, the beat to his rhythm; the ray of light, shining on his prism. Her departure was sudden, like a bolt from the blue; she said he took her for granted, in a way that was true. Now he waits in numbness, in his self created morass; like a checked in passenger,. without a boarding pass. #habit #prism #departure #numbness #morass #YoPoWriMo #yqbaba
