Dimmer

He left her,

Perched uneasily on the orange upholstered armchair. Wingback, 1970s, no doubt.

That heavy feeling of loss lay like guilt at the very pit of her stomach,

Clawing in slow, painful strokes at her insides.

He walked out, you see, and left the girl

All alone with the old demons in the chair. Her small quivering breaths

Turned cold in the outdated space, and she knew, indefinitely,

That the feeling was to stay here, lodged so uncomfortably in her gut.

She shifted her slight weight and balanced so precariously on the arm of the chair,

As she leaned to watch him walk down the muddied lane toward

The other country lane. One led to the small city in which they were stranded,

the other simply led away from the dilapidated farmhouse, toward the other lane.

She heaved a great sigh into the empty air, it was still dank and rotting,

Rained upon, and abandoned for decades.

How they ended up in this horrible stretch of midwestern farmland was still undetermined.

It had been raining too hard to see a thing the night before, when they had crawled to a stop

And hurried into the stone-cold house.

The chair creaked beneath her as she strained to follow his form down the lane.

Its groan of protest made her gasp in slight surprise. The revolting furniture was... revolting against her.

She shivered, and lowered herself from the arm into the seat cushion where she had spent the night

Carefully wrapped in his embrace.

The heavy feeling in her stomach worsened and she fought back the scream building up

In her throat, as though she was about to throw up.

The house watched her silently, judging every move as she sat in her own brand of silence,

Pulling at the loose threads of the chair.

It began to rain again, and she hoped he would not get caught in other horrific storm.

But she really didn't so much care, for he had left, and if he planned to return was not known to her.

For they both knew what had gone on the previous night.

Such a criminal act, such a sinful thing.

The demons welled up again within her, and she did heave over the arm of the chair.

The demons escaped as her stomach again rebelled.

He had left her here,

Alone.

To fight off this new vile illness.

(I'm not sure. Just a story.)