A Story About Love

The light penetrated into the house; it forced its way in through the windows and lit up the rooms with a light that only served to make it easier to not trip, and did nothing to illuminate the spirit of the place. He was sitting at the kitchen table (actually, a card table he had found in a neighbor's garbage pile) waiting, when he heard a step on the porch stairs, and the door creak open. He got up and opened the door to the stairs, and as he caught sight of her she froze. The light seemed to pin her to the wall, accentuating her paleness and the lines on her face.

"What'd the doctor say?" She stared at him. He asked again, and the focused look in her eyes broke; "Oh, um..Can I come down there?" He moved out of the way and she finished descending the stairs.

"What's the news?" She looked at him over her shoulder as he began to shut the door. "No, leave it open."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I- I'm leaving." He stared back at her in something between disbelief and uncomprehension.
"I- I don't have long to go, and...I need to live." She walked into the bedroom and swiftly packed the suitcase standing by the door. "I love you, you know that, but..I need see and do as much as I can before, well...Before I can't any more. And I need to do it alone."

He sat down suddenly at the table, seemingly stunned or concussed. She walked back out holding the suitcase. "I left your half of the money on the nightstand.." He stared dumbly at the floor. "Darling, don't make it be like this, can't you tell me you love me and goodbye one last time?" Her eyes began to moisten as he continued to silently stare down the floorboards. She walked over, kissed his forehead, and murmured, "I love you sweetie." There was no reply, and after a moment she said, "Bye.." and walked over to the stairs and ascended them to the outside world. As the front door shut, the light seemed to dim even further.

With the way he was holding his head in his hands, it was hard to tell who was dying faster.