Ryder's hand shook as he reached to the picture on the step. Suddenly the air in the room became heavy and thick. It was difficult to catch his breath as his unsteady hand grasped the edge of the photograph and lifted it closer. He scanned it diligently. There were friends, gathered in the background. Friends, if only in a photograph, were real enough that he could hear their voices. He could place a name to each face. Real friends he had gained over the years. Real the word that echoed through his mind. Then there was her. Her arm elegantly stretched outward, her hand placed into his, pressed tightly against his lips.

Moments after she had gone, his memory already had somehow become clouded. Did he have her name? Was she here with a common friend? The questions rolled though his thoughts at an overwhelming pace. He struggled against the haze creeping into the edges of his vision. As he stared into the depths of the photograph another unknown face became apparent. Who this man was, Ryder had no idea. But in some way its unfamiliar presence offered him a small amount of recovery. It captured his attention just long enough for the cloudiness to subside.

He stood slowly, his eyes shifting over shadows in the room below. Morning sun pried its way through the small seams of the heavy window coverings. Its silver edged beam slicing along the hardwood of the empty floor. In his right hand as he stood, the photograph, he began tapping unconsciously against the finger tips of his left. Lost in reminiscent thought, his steps carried him down the stairs. Crossing the room his steps passed into the silver beams of sunlight, momentarily peeling them from floor, as they shifted to climb the side of his leg.

The door sounded less angry as it swung open to the morning sunrise. Closing his eyes against the brightness, Ryder stood completely still, pulling the freshness of the morning breeze into his lungs. Stepping out onto the porch, and into the birth of this new day, Ryder furrowed his brow, looked at the picture once again, and headed down the walkway to the car.

She watched from the window as he pulled away. The picture of them, placed on the dash of the car, face down.

She would wait for him yet again, to return.