Tsulalaa

 Ritcher drummed impatient fingers on passive wood that quietly absorbed each blow. Anxiety seeped into those attending the meeting, but no one dared to show their discomfort, no one dared to disturb the tension swelling in the room. Echoes from calloused fingertips were the only noise brave enough to infiltrate the silence. "Well?" The solemn beat ceased its notes. Ritcher pushed himself away from the table and stood. "Well?!" He repeated, slamming his fist on the table. "Are we rendered so useless that we cannot manage to remedy our situation, and only shrug our shoulders and twiddle our thumbs?" He scrutinized his men, "I don't believe

In her arms, his lifeless form rested. Their bond broken after all that time had tested. His vacuous eyes dark, but unfeeling, his mouth slightly smiling, but slowly fading. She had to move on, what she had loved was gone. There was nothing left, she and he no longer had a reason for each other. She could have sworn he was the one, but how her heart has proved to betray her. Already he was replaced, a new one in her bed. It was true. The time had come. There was no reason to prolong the inevitable. They had grown too far apart. But he was always her first love, that she would never forget. She gave him a last kiss, her lips