Scenario: Man in bed

After coming up with a scenario yesterday (Corner Store) and writing it up impromptu, I thought what if I try another scenario and do the same?  It was just to be a thought, nothing thought up and sorry, don't blame me, it means nothing but I thought...man in bed.  That's my scenario...come up with something.  So I tried...
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He switched off his bedroom light as he entered. He was exhausted and knew he wouldn’t want to get up again to turn the light off. It was a short trip to the bed from the doorway and he was familiar with the gray shadows that sprang up when the light was removed. He told himself they didn’t bother him and he was trying to learn his way around them.

He dropped down to sit on the bed and it heaved under his weight. He bent at the waist with his shoulders slumped and hung his tired head in his hands. After a moment he reached down and flipped off his shoes with a push down to the back, first one, and then the other. He let them bounce on the floor as he peeled off his socks and left them where they dropped. He stretched out on the bed and used one arm to pull the tangled sheets that were in a mass from under his back. He tried to smooth them out as best he could without getting up and that’s when he turned his head to the empty spot beside him. He tenderly reached out his arm with his palm down and smoothed the spot as far as he could reach but his eyes never left the pillow beside his. It had been empty for more than two weeks now. She had been gone that long.

He rolled over to the other side and braced himself up with one bent arm. He reached with the other to the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. He shook one out, placed it between his lips and lit it with one hand before rolling back down on his back. He took a deep drag and let it fill him up. He held it there as he stared up at the ceiling until he finally blew it out and the smoke mingled with the shadows. He held the cigarette between his fingers on his hand closest the nightstand. He had moved an ashtray there some nights back so he didn’t have to get up. He smirked as he brought the cigarette back to his mouth for another hit. This wouldn’t be going on if she was here, he thought. He took another long drag and the smirk disappeared from his face. But she wasn’t there. She hadn’t been there. He sighed as the smoke escaped and then reached over to snub the cigarette out. He crushed the red tip and continued dabbing it into the ashtray until it split. He was exhausted. He laid there on his back staring at the ceiling not knowing what he was supposed to do anymore. He reached out again to feel the empty space beside him. It was becoming a bad habit, like the smoking. It would need to change. He knew he couldn’t go on like this.

He laid there in the dark, that night added to the others, staring at the ceiling wishing for sleep, for peace.  He finally closed his eyes as a single tear slid down the side of his face.  She was too young to die.

TT