The rain patters against the window
The wind bringing new sounds to the old house
A lazy sigh echoes through the house
A slow leak in the bedroom roof starts
Footsteps approach the rainy bedroom
He sees a puddle on his bed
The cold wet puddle suffocates the quilt
The quilt she had made for them
Nothing mattered now
The house was old and breaking down to the core
She was told he lost the fire for her
The bed can drown, the house can drown
As the storm grew stronger
He contemplated if he could ever get his house back to normal
Write, Write, Write, Sleep, Write 