Sweet Light

Michael stood there in the darkness looking in on her, stopping only briefly to take a slow drag from the cigar. He rolled it back and forth between his thumb and index finger. Shadows and smoke and old memories and low flute music swirled around his head. The memories that had haunted him were chased away momentarily by the realization that he had finally reached the point he had been converging on for so many years. Whatever the outcome, he had won her back, for the time being at least. Whatever this relationship was to become, it was now up to her. Just like it was then. Small comfort for a hopeless romantic, but comfort nonetheless. Smoke rose from his cigar and circled around the doorframe as he reached out for the worn doorknob, pulled it to him and took what was left of his demons back to the deck with him.