A picture is worth a thousand words? Not, this one. This is only two. “Where’s Charlie?” Scarlet gazed at the picture, as a succinct tear fell. She lit the stove. Instead of grabbing a piece of paper or a match to light the candle, she reached for the photo. The End Simply stated. Simply done.

She grasped the photo album as if it were her very life. It dropped, and she didn’t bother to pick it up. A ring of the telephone brought her out of the trance. Holden. Scarlet decided to let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later, there was a knock. “One minute!” she yelled over her shoulder. Why won’t the world leave me alone? she thought as she brushed a few crumbs off the table.

“Holden?” Scarlet said as he walked in. “You haven’t been picking up.” he stated sadly. She stood blinking at him for a while before answering. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy or avoiding me?”
“I don’t know. Do you question my morals, Holden?”
“What? I guess, but that’s besides the point.”
“Then, what is the point?” She cried out.