What Might Have Been

Story by Shilah on SoFurry

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Author's Notes: I made a terrible mistake. I ran. And every day for the last nine years...


Author's Notes: I made a terrible mistake. I ran. And every day for the last nine years, my decision has eaten at me. Maybe this - my apology in prose - will help me finally move beyond some of these demons. Because of that, this is a bit different from my other writing - a very stream of consciousness, first person in the present type of thing. And I can thank Little Texas for the inspiration.

This is a story of regret. Not that it did or didn't work out, or that I regret where my life has ended up, but regret because I'll never know what could have happened if I had made one fateful decision differently. When love knocks, don't think; don't analyze; just go with it.

Marek, I'm so sorry. I hope some day you can forgive me for what I did.

What Might Have Been

By Shilah ([email protected])

_Sure, I think about you now and then,

But it's been a long, long time.

I've got a good life now; well, I've moved on.

So when you cross my mind,_

Darkness. The first light of the day begins to barely peek into the room, casting horizontal lines on the bed and floor revealing the neatly kept room. The only signs of disorganization revealed by the blue shades cast upon the floor are those of clothing, littering the floor and appearing thrown off in a hurry. The computers and TVs are turned off. The only other light in the room, that of a red alarm clock, highlights the shadows of two lovers laying together among the disheveled sheets, cuddled together and sharing the warmth of a cold December morning. There is no sound, other than the rhythmic breathing and the soft, almost inaudible sound of two hearts beating as one.

But it doesn't last long, for I awaken to find Marek lying beside me in bed. His nude wolf body is pressed up against mine in the afterglow of our lovemaking last night. His arm is wrapped possessively around me, holding me close, his muzzle resting on my cheek. In my ears, I can hear his rhythmic breathing in my ears - in, out, in, out. I can feel his pulse in his well muscled arms encircling me, his chest and pec muscles moving with each and every breath. I can smell his musky wolf scent - deep, thick and extremely erotic. His fluffy, well groomed wolf tail rested between my legs intertwined with my own. I can almost imagine what we must look like right now - a mess of grey fur, sheets and the glow of happiness. I feel totally wrapped in warmth and love, and more than anything I don't want to leave his embrace. Unfortunately, it is Tuesday, and I must awaken for class.

I close my eyes, trying to savor each and every moment of pure love. I watch as the clock ticks off the final few minutes to it's preset time to assassinate my joy. The alarm goes off shortly thereafter. I slam my hand upon the offending device, shutting it off and slowly, with much regret, untangle myself from Marek. He stirs slightly; he must be up shortly for work. I'll let him sleep a little bit longer.

For just a second, I admire his form. So much power buried in that beautiful, fluffy gray wolf fur. So much intelligence behind those glowing amber eyes, even when they are closed. Marek is just so damned sexy. And yet, right now, as he sleeps, he looks so peaceful.

Trying not to make any noise, I turn on the night light, providing a little more illumination in our bedroom. I quietly fish out a pair of pants, lacing them up around my tail. I rustle through the bottom drawer, finally coming up with a Westshore sweatshirt. I look at the sweatshirt, thinking about a decision I had made - whether to take my scholarship and go to Westshore, or to move to Capital City with Marek. I smiled inside. Even though there had been a price, looking at the sexy wolf buried in the sheets, I know now I made the right decision. If only I could get others to see it that way. Almost regretfully, I finish dressing, lacing up my shoes to provide a little protection from the outside snows.

I shut the door and move to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. I go back to the door and take one more opportunity to look at my precious Marek. He's resting on his back, his creamy white wolf chest rising and falling rhythmically. More than anything, I want to crawl back into that bed and wrap myself in Marek's pure love. A glance at my wristwatch rudely reminds me that I have places I have to be, so with great regret, I take my backpack and head out the front door of our house into the cold, white wasteland.

Snow!

I know Marek is used to it. He grew up here, after all. I know all the people here in Capital City are used to it, but damn it, it's still new to me! I grew up in the South, where just the threat of snow is enough to close the schools for a week. It's probably in the sixties back home, I think ruefully. But here, the people move to and fro among the white powder that coats everything as if it weren't even there. Which is too bad, because it really is quite beautiful. The only thing that would make it better is if I had my precious Marek's paw in mine.

Even so, I look from side to side to be sure no one is looking, and I stick my tongue out to catch a snowflake. I can't help myself! This is all new to me!

Fortunately, it is but a short walk to the bus stop. Inside, I am thankful that I get to live with my love and go to school at the same time, but I do slightly regret not getting to live on campus, if even for the sheer convenience. Not to mention being sure to time my departure from Marek's warm embrace perfectly to be able to catch the bus to campus. The bus to campus that is pulling up just as I walk to the station, as it turns out. Another day, another perfectly timed departure. Hell, maybe I'm letting my engineer sense get the best of me.

The bus is cold. I can still see my breath. I wish Marek was here to sit beside me and warm me up. Instead, there is a very cold looking wolf sitting in the back of the bus, shivering, and a leopard that looks homeless. The bus smells acrid and nasty, and inside I am thankful that it is a short ride to campus. I hate early morning classes, but I waited so long to register for classes because of how I agonized over the decision to come here, as well as being a lowly freshman, a nobody wolf on a big campus, means that I got stuck with the eight AM class. At least there were few people on campus that early and even fewer on the bus. Thank God for small blessings.

Even now, sitting in the coldness, I can't help but miss my sexy Marek wolf. He's probably getting up for work soon. Even now, I can hardly believe the massive change the last few months have brought me.

_I try not to think about what might have been.

Cause that was then and we have taken different roads.

We can't go back again; there's no use giving in.

And there's no way to know what might have been._

I was a senior in high school. Just another nameless wolf face in a crowd of various people. Only I didn't socialize much, and never had many friends. Everyone - even my parents - thought I was weird, mostly because I always spent all my time on the computer, involved in chatting and role playing with people I had never even met "in real life." That's how I met Marek.

We shared so much in common, starting with our faith in God. We were both wolves, both looking for companionship, both coming to terms with our bisexuality. He was a few years older than me, but that just added to his attractiveness. And when he finally sent me a picture, I could feel my heart do a backflip. He was bloody gorgeous. His fur was long in its winter coat, but well kept despite it. He exuded confidence and sensuality. I could feel myself melt inside.

Our relationship progressed through the spring of that year. Any time I could sneak in some time at a computer at school, I would chat with the wolf who was quickly becoming my closes confidant. We began calling each other in addition to our extensive online conversations. I was applying to schools and for scholarships, and he was there to help me all along. One day, oh God I still remember that day so clearly, my beautiful Marek tapped out a message to me over chat.

"You know, I've got this house up here. It's big and empty, and my bed is so cold."

"So get a heater," I replied, thinking he was just joking.

"You're not making this easy," he typed back, "so I'm just going to say it. Would you consider moving up here with me?"

I stopped. Was this really what I thought it was? I couldn't even say anything for a few minutes, which I'm sure must have seemed like an eternity for that beautiful heart of his.

"I sense I've overstepped my bounds..." He typed out.

Regaining my senses, I typed back at him: "No, wuffie. You haven't. I'm just ... shocked. I guess I hadn't considered it."

"Well, keep it in mind. After all, we have a pretty good school here, and with your grades, you're practically a shoe-in."

And consider it I did. And as our relationship progressed further, what had been a clear-cut decision for me to attend Westshore, the school I had dreamed of going to since I was but a pup, now became utterly complicated and inextricably linked with the wishes of my heart. To be sure, my parents were confused as to why I had suddenly acquired an interest in a school that I had previously had no interest in, but I played it off as having done some research and really liking their programs. And of course, like Marek said, I was immediately accepted.

But that didn't make the decision any easier.

One night I was relaxing in my room and chatting with my gorgeous, wonderful wolf. I had to keep these conversations quiet, as I still hadn't "come out" to my parents and they didn't know that my precious Marek was the reason I had first considered the school, even though now I was sold on their program as being one of the best in the country for computer science majors.

After a few moments of silence, I felt I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Marek," I asked him. "Remember a few months ago, when you asked me if I had considered Presidential."

"Yes," he said. Oh God how I loved hearing his voice.

"Does that offer still stand?"

There was silence.

"Marek?"

The sound of his voice caught me off guard. The tone and inflection was something that I had never heard escape his muzzle. "Please," he said, a new sound to his voice. Was that a plea sound? Almost a whine? "Please tell me you're going to say what I think you're going to say."

"I've made a decision tonight," I said, resolutely. "I want to move in with you."

All I could hear on the other side were soft sobs of happiness. I think we both shared a lot of happy crying that night. We would finally be together. My wonderful Marek, with a beautiful heart and amazing mind (not to mention the body of a Greek God), and I could be together.

_We could sit and talk about this all night long.

And wonder why we didn't last.

Yes, they might be the best days we will ever know.

But we'll have to leave them in the past._

The building is more deserted than normal this morning. We're getting towards the end of the semester here, and everyone who's here is either passing or has a chance to. The cruft has given up and quit going to class. There are only a few people sitting in the hall this morning waiting on classes. Still, the quiet building is a welcome warm refuge from the cold winter outside. It quickly warms my frozen paws.

I settle into the hard, cold seat in my literature class and smile amusingly at all the "new" faces I haven't seen since the beginning of the term. Lots of folks showing up at the end and hoping they can pass. I wouldn't count on it, considering we've covered everything from Voltaire to Twain. With only a few days left in the term, these folks are hopelessly lost.

That, and the professor likes me. That always helps. She's one of the few people I've told about being bisexual. The whole thing was rather accidental, really. I was visiting her to have her look at one of my papers, and we got to talking. She asked me about my accent - it's hard to escape my Southern drawl that Marek says is so adorably sexy - and how I ended up here. Normally, I would have given the well-rehearsed story, but in this case I felt like talking about things. Turns out, she's actually a lesbian. Since then, we've become pretty good friends in addition to her being my teacher.

"Let's talk about the Enlightenment," the white rabbit professor said. "Who said, 'Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination?'"

Silence.

I sheepishly raise my hand. "Voltaire?"

"Very good!" She smiles warmly at me.

I like that quote. I write it down in my notebook.

We continue to talk about Enlightenment literature and philosophy for much of the remaining class period. Many people look lost, but I have great hope that I will do well in this class.

Before long, class is over and it's off to my next class. I almost knock over a familiar-looking wolf on the way out the door as I'm not paying attention to where I'm going and instead fastening up all my various buttons and zippers on my coat, preparing for the hike across campus to my next class.

More people are here now, but I hardly notice them. I keep to myself, much as I've always done, and try to walk briskly to my next class. My breath still shows in the air, the snow crunching under my steps. I try to keep from slipping ungracefully as I'm still not used to having to walk on ground that could shoot out from under me at any moment. Fortunately, most of the original awkwardness that accompanied my first few days here with snow have fallen away.

I wonder what Marek is doing? I'm sure he got up, put on some clothes - so sad to be hiding such a gorgeous body underneath clothing - and headed into the office. He's in his morning meeting no doubt.

I whine a little inside. I just want to be home with him, still wrapped in that loving cocoon of warmth and sensuality. His arms around me feel so good. About this time I notice I've almost walked past the entrance to the building. Shaking my head ruefully at my mistake, but smiling nonetheless at the warm love I feel inside, I head inside the building to escape the cold overcast snowy day.

Glancing at my watch, I notice that I have time to grab a quick coffee. It'll warm me up and give me the ability to make it through the rest of the day without falling asleep. Seeing as how I didn't get much sleep last night.

After that, it's off to my next class. Tuesdays are always my longest. I just want to be home.

_So try not to think about what might have been.

Cause that was then and we have taken different roads.

We can't go back again; there's no use giving in.

And there's no way to know what might have been._

I step off the bus and back into the cold winter wasteland. The sun has set, with just the barest light still showing over the horizon. Streetlights provide an eerie artificial orange glow on the white snow. Snow covers all the trees; all the green is invisible beneath the layers of white. It has clearly snowed more over the course of the day. Only this time, I'm ecstatically happy. I can see the house from here! And Marek's car is there! Only a few short blocks separate me from my handsome Marek wolf!

I break into a jog. The burn in my legs feels good, the cold air in burns my lungs and warms me up, even more than the glow of excitement I feel about getting to see my precious love again. I barely notice the weighted backpack slouched upon my back. I jog quickly, but carefully as to avoid the patches of ice and snow, towards Marek's small suburban bungalow at the end of the road. Barely breaking a sweat, I jog up the front steps, taking just a moment to knock the snow and ice off my shoes. In my excitement, I fumble with my keys, shaking with the elation of getting to hug my precious Marek again.

The house is dark. Strange. The living room light is usually on at least, even if Marek is in his study. All I can see as my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of the house is a flickering orange light emanating from the living room at the end of the hall. My ears pick up the soft sounds of music from coming from the room ... Vivaldi? Concerto number 4 in F minor? L'inverno? My nose inhales the deep scent of burning wood ... pine ... along with some other scents I can't quite make out.

I walk slowly to the doorframe and lean in.

The room is dark. No lights are on. The only illumination afforded the room is a blazing, hot fire that warms me even this far from it, its amber and orange flames dancing rhythmically along the burning logs of wood resting in the fireplace and casting strange shadows throughout the room and onto the ceiling rafters above. The brown leather furniture - the chairs and sofas, as well as the end tables - have been pushed to the edges of the room to make way for ...

Oh Marek.

In the middle of the room, in front of the fireplace, sits a low squat table nary a foot off the ground and draped in a tablecloth as pure white as the white snow outside. Two long, slender white candles sit atop of the table, their flickering flames almost drowned out by the roaring fire behind them. On the table, a bottle of wine and two glasses, each full of a delicious red. Gold rimmed white china plates sit at each end of the table; a single satin napkin beneath the forks. A bowl of pasta ... is that shrimp pasta? Bread and a luscious looking garden salad.

And sitting at one end of the table, on a red pillow, is that sexy, wonderful wolf who makes my day. Wearing white boxers ... silk? ... and nothing else. His muscles rippling under his creamy white chestfur with each single move and every single breath. I can hear his breathing, just barely, above the crackling of the fire. His beautiful shapely muzzle, chiseled hard and yet so soft when kissed, rests on his hands revealing a glowing smile, his gorgeous amber eyes staring directly at me. His bushy wolf take swings slowly, subtly behind him.

"Welcome home," he huskily murrs to me.

I feel like my heart is going to explode with joy. A tear forms in the corner of one of my eyes and slowly makes its way down my cheek. I can't even speak due to the lump in my throat. I slowly kneel at the table, tears wetting my cheeks.

"To what occasion do I owe this wonderful surprise, my love?" I finally manage to choke out.

"I need an occasion to treat my honey to a wonderful fireside candlelight dinner?" He replied, smiling.

"Marek," I managed to choke out between tears. "You always treat me so wonderfully..."

"It just so happens," he says, reaching for his wine glass, "that there is an occasion..."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he says smiling. "Six months ago, tonight, you gave me the best gift anyone's ever given me. You gave me your heart, sweet and tender, and told me you would join me here. Every single day since then I have thanked God that he sent you into my life. You are so wonderful to me and for me. The very least I can do is give the love of my life a romantic dinner."

I am a sobbing, weeping mess at this point. I am so overcome with joy, happiness, and the feeling of ultimate love and acceptance. Managing to regain just a little bit of composure, I feebly reach for my glass, using the other paw to wipe away some of the tears from my face.

"To my gorgeous, wonderful Marek," I manage, sniffling. "and to unconditional love."

The soft clink of glasses, in addition to my sniffling, fills the room. I feel like I'm grinning so wide that it hurts as we begin to eat our meal. Marek, as always, is a wonderful chef. The shrimp are large and succulent, the pasta delicious and tasty. Before long, I am stuffed and happy - well, happier, even - and curled up in Marek's lap grooming him gently.

"You know," I say, murring deeply as I nibble at his leg. "I think about you all day long."

"Oh really?" the wolf replies back.

"Yeah, you're constantly in my thoughts," I murr at him. "Oh Marek, you just make me so happy..."

I look up at him and admire his form. He's so strong, and yet ... gentle. His muscles, while firm and clearly defined, were softened by the grey and white pelt that covered him. The dark grey, light grey and white hairs, thick in their winter coat form, formed fascinating and hypnotic patterns. His scent, so strong and sexy, deep canid musk that seems to fill every nook of my muzzle. His eyes, those gorgeous amber stones with pupils as black as the blackest moonless night, staring down at me lovingly.

"Honey," he says to me, "the day you told me you would move up here was the happiest day of my life. Every day has been a blessing."

I grin so wide it hurts. I can feel myself blushing; feeling the insides of my ears warming up and turning red. Marek seems to do that a lot to me. I bury my face in his lap, murring and inhaling more of his thick scent, exhaling deeply. Contentedly. I can feel his warmth.

"Oh sweet wuffie," I say. "Please don't let me go."

He grins down at me, "Never."

I feel that familiar stirring in my loins. The one that speaks to my body's unspoken love for the wolf that has changed everything about me. I crawl up his belly and plant a deep, enduring kiss on his chiseled wolf, letting my tongue dance with his. My eyes close, letting myself simply savor his wonderful taste. I can feel the vibrations from his murring in my chest and my throat. Oh, the feeling of his paws on my back, the sensation of his claws as they scratch gently into my back sending shudders from the tips my toes to the tips of my ears. Every part of me is alive!

Without a word, I help him up. We walk hand in hand towards the bedroom ... our bedroom. The remains of our dinner can wait until the morning.

_That same old look in your eyes

It's a beautiful night, I'm so tempted to stay

But too much time has gone by

We should just say good bye, and turn and walk away..._

With one paw in mine and the other wrapped around my back, Marek slowly lowers me to the king-sized Marekress that we have shared for the last six months. With both hands, I cup his face and pull him towards me, enticing him into a deep, luscious kiss. Again, I taste of my wolf's wonderful taste, inhaling deeply of his intoxicating aroma. The soft sound of Vivaldi from the adjacent room is the only sound other than our two hearts beating in unison.

He slowly pulls my sweatshirt up my chest; I break the kiss just long enough to get it over my head before resuming my feast upon his delicious maw. The shirt, just like last nights' clothing, is disposed over the side of the high bed onto the floor below. The cold air of the room sends little pin pricks through my body, even despite my thick winter coat. I lean back on my elbows, still enjoying the wonderful feeling of our kiss. Marek is straddling me now, supporting himself with one hand while the other one deftly unbuttons and unzips my pants. In one swift motion, he pulls my pants and underwear off.

I feel so vulnerable and yet so safe. With some regret, I break the kiss, smiling as Marek sits up still straddling me. What a gorgeous view I have from here, looking up at well chiseled abs and chest of this exquisite, dreamy specimen of a wolfen male God. Every part of his demeanor exudes absolute confidence; I can't help but melt like butter in his hands.

Grinning like a pup on his birthday, I hook my thumbs through the stretchy elastic waistband of his white silk boxers. They are a wrapping on a present, the contents of which I desperately seek. Inch by exquisite inch, I lower those boxers, revealing the well endowed meaty wonder, already beginning to spring forth from a wrapping of its own. With one final, careless flick, Marek lifts his leg and kicks them off the bed in some random direction.

As I look up at my precious wolf, I can't help but marvel at every perfect detail of his beautiful form. Everything proportional, everything as if chiseled from the very stone of the Earth. How his golden amber eyes seem to glow with a light all their own, how his fur seems to shine in the dim light of the room. Not to mention the wonderful present now at the level.

He treats me so well. I want to give to him now. Reaching a paw up and caressing the impeccable perfection that were the two furry orbs hanging beneath his thick and emerging wolf meat elicits a deep murr-growl from him. I let a single claw scratch gently through the soft thin fur and fleshy folds of his sac, giving each sphere a playful squeeze. He rolls his head back, eyes closed.

I let the solitary paw work its way north just a bit, to where the tip of his cock was peeking from the creamy white soft fur of his sheath. I gently pull on the sheath, exposing the throbbing red monster to the coolness of the room. I run a claw gently along the underside of the rod, causing Marek to shudder, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

With a playful push, I nudge Marek off of me and backwards onto the Marekress. Like a famished prisoner, I leap upon him before pulling back and kneeling between his legs. I look up over his member, to see his eyes, as I slowly drag my tongue along the length of his ample endowment. I want to be able to look into his eyes - those amazing amber eyes. His salty taste is like ambrosia to me. Never breaking eye contact, I leisurely slide his throbbing wolf meat into my waiting maw, taking it all the way in until my nose rests at the base of his knot.

I pause for just a second to enjoy the magical sensation. I can feel Marek's every heart beat in my mouth and across my tongue. And, as slowly as I slid his member into my mouth, I just as slowly slide it back out until just the tip remains between my lips. My tongue snakes out of my muzzle, twisting around his member before snaking back into my mouth as though I were licking a tasty, succulent candy. Marek moans and I grin giddily inside. Just the knowledge that I'm pleasing him makes me tingle all over.

I slide back down on his meat, all the way until his knot bumps at my lips, this time increasing my speed just a bit and waiting only a second before pulling back. Then, again. My tongue can make out each individual vein and bump on his luscious stick, and I can sense his hand on the back of my head, pulling me towards him while lifting his hips from the Marekress to match each of my downward thrusts.

Marek is thrusting rapidly into my muzzle, moaning and thrashing his head from side to side, but I have other plans. I pace myself, dropping off speed until I am almost as slow as when I began. Marek whines, looking at me.

I kiss my way up his belly, running my muzzle and tongue through his thick, luxurious fur, until I am eye to gorgeous amber eye. I say the only thing I can possibly think of.

"Make love to me."

Marek grins a big, toothy wolf grin; his pearly white teeth showing as clearly as stars in the dim night of the room. I can't help but let my eyes wander down to his bulging, turgid member, glistening with my saliva. I can almost see it throbbing. I can't wait to have it inside me.

I turn around and lay on my side; Marek crawls in behind me. I love this moment; I have a submissive streak a mile wide and this moment, one of loving submission to my Marek, my mate and the love of my life, brings me so much joy inside. He licks my face and neck lovingly; I can feel the heat from his throbbing manhood as it nudges between the furry orbs that conceal my tailhole.

I inhale sharply; I know what's coming and even though I'm used it it, it still hurts a bit. He pushes gently until the muscles of my tailhole slowly part to let him in, still licking affectionately at my cheek and neck and groaning loudly as his hot throbbing shaft slides in all the way to the knot. I moan, tilting my head back and grinding myself at Marek.

"Ohhhh wuffie!" I moan.

He wraps his arms around me possessively and begins to thrust at my willing hole. I can feel his claws on my chest and hear his panting in my ears like the winds of the storm of passion taking place in the bedroom. I can even feel each bump of his knot at my tailhole, desperately wanting access. But not just yet...

Marek groans and growls with love and lust, his thrusts beginning to build in speed and power. I can feel the growl in his chest as it vibrates straight into me. I match his thrusts with thrusts of my own back at him, our bodies falling into a fast, erotic rhythm. Each jolt of Marek's knot against my sensitive tailhole sends little jolts that seem to shoot all the way to my fingers and toes. I want it!

As if sensing my urgency, Marek whispers in my ear, "get ready... here it comes ... oh... ohhh ..."

I push back hard to meet this thrust and his knot pops in with only a moment of pain, filling me completely. He shortens his thrust, grunting and moaning in my ear. My tongue hangs lewdly from my jaw, my own manhood jutting from its sheath and poking out on my belly.

Marek reaches a paw down and takes my turgid member, jerking it roughly.

That proves to be just too much for me.

I let out a loud, deep groan, spilling my seed into Marek's thrusting paw, constricting my muscles uncontrollably around the fleshy invader in my loins. Marek howls into my neck, gives one final thrust and bites down on my neck, spilling his wolf seed into my bowels. I can feel the warmth of it inside! His orgasm intensifies mine, causing me to buck my hips uncontrollably.

Marek relaxes against me, catching his breath as the final jets of cum spurt into me. He nuzzles me as I bask in the afterglow of our lovemaking.

With Marek's member still tied inside me and his tender kisses on my ears and neck, I slowly drift off to sleep. The moonlight casts a iridescent glow on the black bed-sheets, twisted around our post-coitus tied form. I can feel his heart beating through his knot embedded inside me. I feel so close ... so loved.

Just another everyday in my life, now. Our ordinary, extraordinary love.

_So try not to think about what might have been.

Cause that was then and we have taken different roads.

We can't go back again; there's no use giving in.

And there's no way to know what might have been._

Outside the window, a pair of green eyes watched though a window. He tried to keep a distance from the window sufficient to keep from causing a fog on it. A tear snakes from one eye, flowing quickly down his cheek before freezing on his face.

The wolf steps away from the window, the frozen blades of grass crunching underneath the snow. The cold burns through his soggy shoes, but he doesn't care. He pulls his black trench coat tighter into his body to preserve what little warmth he has on this cold, dark frozen wasteland, and slinks slowly off down the street, the snows swirling odd shapes around each of his footsteps. A streetlight flickers momentarily overhead before quickly fading out into darkness. Darkness.

_And there's no way to know ...

... what might have been._

Copyright (c) 2009 Shilah