The sound grew near. Booms, loud Bangs and twisted metal falling from the grey sky.
Painless, they sat inside the broken cafe.
"Your bow has fallen from your hair," he said. Her porcelain hand picked up the red bow and took a swig of her cigarette.
"Coffee?"
"Why not? A last cup before..."and she trailed off the tail of the sentence.
Cream?
"Yes, my sweet" sounding charming, as if it were a ball and not war.
"Well, I guess we're all outta luck."
"I believe you're right."
"Are you going hand-in-hand with the Lord now?"
Sipping on her coffee,"Depends where I am going."
"It's horrible, this is it," "There's no right, it's a wicked life," he sighed through his heavy soul.
"It is a crime. But, isn't it a milestone?"
Her beauty was deafening and all consuming.
"You're going to be the brightest star, you know."
"And you'll be right beside me," she said.
"You have no approximation."
"I don't want leave."
"Yes, it's so hard to leave.
He grasped her little pale hand. A single tear bade her goodbye.
She smiled farewell.