Jack stared at the blank sheet. His mind began to drift. Memories swirled, and the pen seemed to write of its own accord.
I've never slept in this tent without her. Not once.
It was always cozy, her snuggled up against me. My arms wrapped around her. One hand resting on a hip, the other enfolding her, caressing her shoulder.
Sometimes I would kiss her neck while running my thumb over the little mole on the back of her arm. Breathing in the scent of her hair. Absorbing the warmth that radiated from her soft skin.
My heart aches now at how large and empty this tent feels. It may as well be a warehouse.
It stores nothing but memories.
Jack put down the pen. His vacant eyes took in the 9x7 enclosure. It felt like his heart would stop. Or perhaps he only wished it would.
He sigh a shuddering breath as he stared at the spot where she would have slept, cold now that she was no longer there.
"I need to buy a new tent," he sighed.
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