[100 days of 100 words] 58/100

The lights went out hours ago, but I stayed. The streetlamps are snuffed, and the sky’s gone from new-moon black to deepest blue. The color of sleep on the edge of waking.

She was there, on the phone, pacing, for hours tonight. I saw her every 9.5 seconds as she reached one end of the little room, turned, and passed by the window again.

I don’t know who she was talking to, but I saw her smile. Big and white and wide and involuntary, with a visible sigh, the way she used to.

Her window’s dark, but I still see her.