A Sun ray woke up Eloise. She frowned and turned her face the other way, under her pillow. She knew he had left, she felt his void next to her, but didn’t dare open her eyes. She didn’t want to find that out, she didn’t want it to be true.
Eloise had always been like that: instead of facing her problems, she preferred to stop caring about them and just pretend they didn’t even exist in the first place. That wasn’t really a problem, but surely she would rather like to be in a different situation.
The Sun out of her window kept kissing her cheeks, persistent and unwavering. Eloise couldn’t do anything but grumble and eventually stand up.
Once on her feet, she finally faced the open window and the light that came from there. Hypnotically, she smiled and, step by step, got closer to it.
What she saw, why she suddenly smiled and what at… well, we shall never know. Our view stops right here; the camera that’s been recording the whole time won’t move anymore. We are left with the view of her unmade bed, that sunshine ray which cuts the room in a half and, supposedly, takes away Eloise. But actually, we don’t know what happened next and we never will. Eloise, that as beautiful as inconsciously fearful and fragile girl; Eloise, her golden hair and her olive skin which seemed to reject those kisses, wherever they were from; Eloise, that once in her lifetime, had perhaps learnt to face her problems.
Linnet looked down her whisky glass; she closed her eyes, those deep and weary eyes, as she drank. The bartender smiled at her and Linnet couldn’t understand if that was the smile of someone who had pity on her, a young woman of an unusual beauty who was being destroyed by the alcohol she kept snarfing and her obsessing thoughts, or if he was just joyful.
“Another one, please”, she said as she handed out her now empty glass.
Linnet had her head in her hands and was just about to fall asleep, when a young and handsome man entered the diner. He was wearing a nice fedora and an elegant suit, which made him look like someone who ran a business; he, whose name was Finley, went next to Linnet and sat on the chair closest to hers.
She, on the other hand, didn’t even look at him, and only turned her head when he took her glass away and, instead, put his hand in hers. She faked a smile and went back again to her whisky glass.
“I missed you.”
“No, you didn’t. You just missed the idea of me being under your power.”
“I love you.”
She distanced her glass and a tired and false smile appeared on her lips. Then she drank the last sip, laid that whisky glass on the counter and went to the door. Finley stood up and looked at her on the doorstep. Linnet turned her face and whispered, in a charismatic but, still, emotionless way: “I love you too”. She walked out the building and Finley lost her again in the dark night that the city of New York had wrapped around them.