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"No Refill"
No Refill
His ring of keys are twisted like chimes in a wind
storm.
The metals echo through the hallway and enter under the
thresholds of other tenant's rooms.
He jams the key to the
lock's face, and it opens to empty corners, then swings closed on its own
account.
His neighbors could surely hear the drawers slide out and
slam in a desperate search.
They surely heard these same slams last week too. "Maybe
he lost his wallet or keys." They had to have heard the empty orange
plastic bottles being thrown at the walls and falling to the cold tile.
What about his cries for help? "It must be his
T.V."
They must have heard him tear out his hair as he tried to
hold on to something that would never leave.
They must have felt the cold draft he let into his 10th floor
apartment.
It was a chilling draft that erects every hair, crawls
beneath the skin, and freezes the soul.
~Jonathan Weaver
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