Drabble: The Sidewalk Ends

One day you gave up. I don’t know why. You just stopped. You’re like a dead fish carried in a stream; I see you moving, but there’s no life there. The tide and inertia and the waves throw your body around, but whatever was inside you is gone. You’re hollow, empty.

The silent mountain
and the roaring cataract
and an empty shell

I hope you wake up.

There’s a sunset, and a river, and the sidewalk’s cracked and old; I know it takes me home. There’s an old home. It’s empty, unloved, but maybe we can make it warm again.