Romney Queens stepped out of the elevator, pulled out a long-saved key, and tremblingly inserted it into the door lock—it turned and unlocked with surprising ease.
He hesitated briefly before pushing the door open and entering. The one-bedroom apartment, originally not very large, felt extraordinarily empty because she no longer lived there.
Romney moved to push the bedroom door open; the room was pitch-black. Without switching on the lights, he used the flash of lightning outside to guide him in, eventually making his way to the bed.
On the bed, both the pillow and quilt were still there. He grabbed a pillow, hugged it to his chest, buried his face in it and kept on muttering, "Gale Summer, don't be afraid, I'm here, Gale Summer, don't be afraid, I'm here..."
He was still there, on this stormy night filled with thunder and flashing lightning, braving it all to run here. But his Gale Summer was long gone, not there waiting for him anymore.
