We Can Try - 29

He looked into her clear blue eyes that reminded him of the sky every time he gazed upon her delicate face. The laughter wrinkles that creased the edges of her eyes were as endearing as her unkempt hair when he first met her in her art studio, paint dotting her hair tied in a bun. He had grabbed her for himself like he was snatching the greatest gift that life could possibly give him and married her within the year. When they moved into their first and final house, they noticed the doormat faced outward but they were too elated to fix it as he carried her into the house, always leaving it for "later".

The clouds reflected in her irises grew dark and heavy as they knew that death was knocking upon the door. Three times the slow, soft thud permeated the house. The great windows in her new studio splayed a strange pattern of light over the floorboards.

She gave him a quivering smile as she asked, "do you want to get it or should I?"

He stroked her cheek and kissed her on the forehead as he stood up. They held hands and approached the great oak double doors. In the fogged windows that framed the beautiful wood they could see a great shadow and the gleam off his sickle. Behind him, the blue sky mocked his presence even as it acknowledged him by covering itself humbly in clouds. They grasped each others' hands like lifelines and hesitated.

"Do you think we could... We could leave wi... With stre-"

"We can try," he cut her off, gently releasing her hand. He reached forward and thrust the doors open, embracing his old friend.

They were swept off their feet and the only thing left behind was a doormat facing the wrong direction. "Welcome home."