In increasing order from my door:
The doorway, where you stood and you told me it was over. Where we kissed, and it had within it the subtle but unavoidable knowledge that this was a kiss of the class “goodbye”.
Two holes in the snow, where I stood and watched you leave me, dumbstruck.
The footprints, each double-impression pointing unavoidably away.
The two that are reversed, as you stood and looked one last time.
Some snow, stained darkest scarlet, where the witch’s curse finally struck you.
A cairn, until I can return.
My own footsteps.
March 12, 2013