When she laughed, it sounded like sunshine; it made his heart hurt.
There had been a madness to her. A wild, intoxicating madness — like being drunk on an elixir of life, he reflected as he hobbled slowly down the hall. Everything moved slowly these days, except the days themselves.
He stopped before a picture hanging on the wall, the last photo taken before she had been hospitalized.
Her silvery hair flowed loosely around her shoulders as her head was tossed back in carefree abandon. Her eyes were screwed up tightly in mirth, and her hands were a blur in the photo as she had clapped them together. Her teeth gleamed in a grin that could make the darkest shadow smile.
He pressed his dry lips to the glass and kissed the memory of sunshine; it made his heart hurt.
I’m not sure where the inspiration for this story came from, but I felt it belonged here.