Misplaced Fortune

He wanted to remember everything about that moment. He wanted to feel the damp air hanging heavy on his shoulders trying with it all its might to bring him down. He wanted to see the darkness that was shed aside buy a street lamp that could only be described as antique. It gave off a faint yellow glow that cast enough light to illuminate just the two of them, well more him than her. Her delicate face, tears steadily working their way down her rosy cheeks, was shrouded in shadows. They hid her beauty. He almost stepped back so that he could see her one last time, but alas he was frozen in the moment. The rubber soles of his shoes seemed to have melted and fused themselves to the coarse gravel that surrounded him. He marveled at the strange substance holding him hostage as he leaned over her shoulder. His face slowly adjusted to the curve of her shoulder and his hands dug into her sides as he held her tighter than he had ever before. He willed his grip to keep her close to him. But that was not the way the world worked. The world gave no sympathy to people of his stature; no, it was always the well endowed that got the fortune, or perhaps it was that they were well endowed because they had fortune on their side. Where had he been when these transactions that so pointedly impact his existence were taking place? And now, the only debt he could pay would be paid with the salty rivers that flowed unchecked down his pallid face. He knew he had to remember this moment: the feel of her skin, and the warmth that surrounded him despite the light, cool breeze that slowly dried his tears.