They say you shouldn’t cry over it, but the smashed bottle and milk all over the carpet was the last straw. All of Aubery’s talent, the exhibition and accolades of the past few months now a pale reflection.
The life he had dreamed of was all around him, evident in the new apartment he lived in and the designer jeans he wore. It had happened so fast. The policeman at his door, the rush to the hospital.
This glory, without her, was all so much spilt milk.