A man is sitting at
home, a single lamp is on. He holds a can of
beer, occasionally bringing it to his lips. Wearing the pajamas and robe
he has been in for the past week, he silently glares out the window at the stars
and the moon, thinking about how his life is falling apart. His morals and way
of life have been different ever since he came back from Afghanistan. His wife and him no longer speak to each
other, in fact she is off to her mothers house right now. He glares silently as
her car pulls out of the driveway. He sit and thinks, he quietly sighs as the
snow flakes stick to the window pane. That sigh was the only noise the man
made. He gets up, clicks off the lamp
and shuffles to bed.