• I walk the small, insignificant path of Quince Street. The cool night air was a welcome relief to the stuffy confines of the car. In the automobile, my thoughts had been trapped, suffocated, but out in the open they could take free range. I stop and peer up at the millions of stars, but in all sincerity, they did not stare back. They did not smile nor encourage as many people had done before but just sat in their own little space in the sky, gleaming like diamonds. The only sounds that intruded upon my ears was a solitary automotive and the chorus of crickets. Thousands upon thousands of tiny chirping beings, surrounding me with their call of what seemed to be comfort. I looked once more upon the uncaring stars, steam passing my face. The temperature was chilly yet i felt no cold. The dimly lit street had few street lamps every so often i would stare into one and due to my eyesight it would appear as if staring into the heart of a burning bronze star. It seemed like an eternity before I reached the beginning of the lengthy and dark driveway that led to many houses, among them was my humble abode. All light, save the stars, had receded. I was left alone with my thoughts. Thoughts of anger, thoughts of anger, thoughts of sorrow, thoughts of despair and loneliness. Why was it so short lived? Why had she not given me a chance? The outing I had tried to keep light, even after my personal devastation, had ended on a sour note for many. Above all, I think she could sense my underlying melancholy. I had done the right thing in sacrificeing my feelings for her to preserve her happiness but that did not make the pain go away. All these thoughts, all these conflicting emotions, they drove me to the point of wanting to roar my anguish so that it might be out in the open, but at this hour, many would be asleep and i was almost to my destination so i decided to keep it to myself. In no time at all, the double lights of my carport greeted me and I thought about them no more until I had reached my small corner of the world. My torn, leatherbound notebook willing to listen to my sorrows.