"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