The morning is cold and misty. Even the birds refuse to open their mouths to break the sacred silence.
A white horse moves slowly amongst the mist, carrying a young girl on its back. Tears have made tracks down her white cheeks.
Behind her, she leaves the shattered remnants of a half forgotten dream strewn in the wet grass. A white piece of paper covered in black writing waits to break the news to a man she has to leave. It waits at his bedside, where she crept to leave it there. And she saw him sleeping, and wished to lie down there beside him, hold him in her arms and never let go.
It will be hours before he wakes, hours before he reads the note. There can be no return. She knows this.
And yet she goes.