He stared at the dilapidated state of the wall with melancholy and apathy. This was the home he’d built for her with his own two hands. It was the place they intended to live all of their days. It was where he intended to grow old and die with the only woman he’d ever loved.
They’d managed to grow old, both unexpectedly and inevitably, and then she had to go and die on him. What was the gain in caring anymore about the damned house? Like him, it was only a faded reminder of what had once been much more.