The raindrops bombed the tarred road futilely, but she kept on walking. Her bare feet met each step carefully, her toes embracing the loose gravel. She stopped for a moment, body perfectly still as the rain pelted down. You could not see her face, she wouldn't let you. Then her knees bent as she came to a squat, and she placed your ring on the ground. In the moonlight, the silver gleam of the ring shone dully from oxidation. Overused and poorly maintained. (So how much was it worth now?) She picked herself up. And without anything left to do, she kept on walking. In the rain, in the dark, against the freedom she gave up for you. She moves in a vacuum, on the path to nowhere, where infinity lies. (Pick the ring up, at least.) Even though you have the ring returned, you only gained a piece of collateral. And while you stand there, waiting for a car to run you over, she will keep on walking. She will keep on walking far, far away from you, until the last thing you see is her bare heel curling off the road in the lamplight.
(photo via Net-A-Porter.com)
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