I meander around the empty house, confined by the vow of my life sentence. I eat, but I am still hungry. I sleep, but I am still tired. The touch of emptiness cloaks me like the familiarity of a favorite blanket.
As I pass through the hallway to retrieve more wine from the kitchen, I hear the whispers of our guests over the laughter in the great room. “This house of two souls, so cold and empty. What a pity to be trapped here.”
Why was there laughter in that old house of two cold souls? Fake laughter in a ghastly chamber – the reflex of social convention.
Two acquaintances never to return.
Two cold souls left to find satisfaction that never comes. Empty when they drink. Empty when they dine. Empty when they laugh in the house where they are confined.
Writing prompt image courtesy of Writers Write