Only Three

Three of them stood in the doorframe, while Barbara was laid back on the couch. None of the three spoke, yet within each of them an ongoing conversation carried out. They looked at one another and, without saying a word, each understood what the other was saying, and yet, understood nothing at all.

Bastian held one hand on his hip and the other across the top of his brow, his face pale and his lips curled down in a frown of disbelief. He looked deep into the eyes of the others, mildly wild and yet, not at all. He was replaying their last conversation over and over again. Pained by his guilt of how he had left it; busied, rushed, annoyed.

Milly sobbed, quietly for the most part, quietly but continuously. In complete shock. She felt unable to move forward, to do what she had to do, like time should just stand still, like it couldn’t possibly go on right now, it would have to wait, surely.

She looked to Gwen, her hands moved from her side to her face sporadically. Unable to even fully comprehend; her thoughts were between the night before, the need to comfort Milly and Bastian, and about the understanding of there being four of them in the room but the feeling that there only three.

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