It comes back so fast, in the blink of an eye The moments of fear and the joyful tears I did cry

His dark fluffy hair, I remember so well The wiff of damp pine on his shirt I still smell

It seems like so long since are heart throbbing fling Six months it did last, and we knew not but a thing

I long for back then, to be young, and be free To be hopeful and happy, touching all we could see

I see he likes coffee black now, a change from the past He’s put the hot cocoa behind him, an adult at last

His payment is done, he walks towards the door, Do I say something now or stay silent once more

The nerves make me do it, make me call out his name And he turns around slowly, but his face stays the same

He looks at my finger, and sees nothing but skin, Then meets my gaze and throws me a grin

His hand remains empty, no wedding band in sight And now my thoughts race, bringing ideas of the night

But for now it is morning, a soft warm autumn day And we drink coffee together, knowing just what to say

We talk of old times, of the odd things in the past And we both wonder in hope if this time we would last

I often wondered if our story would have been different somewhere else. If the age of our surroundings caused the tragedy I know know. I looked at them, one dead, the other a glutton, and I question things. In the age of science, would her house have been gone? In this form, probably, but she is adaptive, and the home would have changed.

I suspect we were not the first, the clothes on her body give proof to that, and I know we will not be the last.

For her house is a tale new and old, a conclusion of the battle for gluttons or greed.

We are a warning, then, that throughout all time, throughout the old and the new, greed takes to much, and we lose.