intro to a story I'll probably never finish.

She licked the envelope quickly, trying hard not to taste the papery glue that would bind the two sides together. Folding the triangle down with precision she lined the edges and smoothed out the creases.

He would get it in a week or two, she guessed, and by then the fall winds would have swept through her front yard, bringing the colors of autumn with them.

She stood up from her chair and walked into her dining room. The mahogany table caught the glow of the 6’oclock sunshine and dust danced in its gleams. The table had been made by her Dad, a small town carpenter who had left her at the age of three. It'd been untouched since then and no matter how hard she pushed the thought away, his suitcase seemed to be a permanent fixture near her front door, though she knew it was just an image cast from the memories of him leaving.

She gathered her thoughts, tucked them neatly in the place where she never liked to go and made her way down their photo lined hallway back to her bedroom. She flopped down on her bed face first and buried her head in down feather pillows.

When she imagined summer in Vail she’d expected more excitement. She’d imagined days of bike rides and ice cream, afternoon matinees and trips to the pool where the charcoal mountains rose up on either side. She didn’t know why she had these expectations, but she had them unaware that they wouldn’t be met.

When her expectations came crashing down and turned to cool puffs of vapor rising up off the asphalt, she never thought she'd feel so lonely. And it wasn’t even a feeling really, it was a sickness that seeped into her pours and pulled down the edges of her smile.

In late April, Cody has said that they needed to end things. He handed her back the mixed CDs she’d made him and the picture of him giving her a piggyback ride through town. After grabbing back his basketball sweatshirt and his stack of horror movies, he was gone. He had said he needed space, some fresh air, but she couldn’t imagine air fresher than the Rockies that surrounded them.

She pushed herself up on her palms and turned over, looking up at the ceiling fan that rhythmically cast geometric shadows on her wall. She felt as if her room buzzed with anticipation, like it knew it’d be vacant in a matter of hours.

Well If she was going to leave, she’d have to start somewhere.