Abandonment

He held her hand even if she had no strength to exchange the simple gesture, and as he gazed at her faraway amber eyes, he knew that her force had been so lapidated that, soon, she would lack the strength to breathe too. Yet her departure had been gentle, despite its constancy and mocking cruelty. For that, he was grateful. He lifted a pallid hand to his lips, held it there momentarily, a shadow of a memory overtaking him. Tan skin, fingernails in ever-changing nail-polish dancing joyously and hastily like bright beetles on piano keys.