She promised him coming back one day and here she is.Shyly entering the room she once knew so well…
The yellow smoke of his cigarettes have rotten the muslin lampshade she once gave him.
To chase away the shades that kept on haunting him each time she was not around.
The paper walls still under a harsh tobacco coat yet bathed in the sounds of the violin he used to master and sing their love.
The same one that sang chants of sorrow when leaving in despair of her absence.
And yet, here she is.
In a darker corner she spots LOVE, feels a LOVE that never left her and leaves the room.
She will find him, put the violin’s strings in silence for ever, turning off the lights of the lamp.
She will stay then, forever, being his home.
For home is a an emotion, a feeling of warming and welcoming safety.
They just need to find themselves somewhere, sometimes…