Theodora sat on the porch couch of her home, which was her sisters guest house. She held a bottle of vodka in one hand and her other rest on her temple.

The night air was brisk, Theo wore a hoodie to fight that. Crickets sung, their melody matching your steps.

She had called you, distressed. Her sister’s death leaving her a mess. You were a friend, a close one.

“Hey” She states, sniffling as wipes her blue eyes with her sleeves.

“Thanks for showing up” Her voice is hoarse and full of hurt.