Cracked skeletons broke out of the closet. She just gaze impassively at each lovely bone as they wiped her tear. The memories were vivid in the lines. Impossible for her to feel the nostalgia that requires more than a few moments of happiness. Unless she is dreaming again.
There is a definition of a word opposite of nostalgic that defines her life.
She wonders about the face she saw in her dreams. She misses that person, like a mistresses missing her wife. Tried to be subtle but the interpret push and cold shoulder was too obvious. Change has always been her best friend, what makes this visit so special. It's not.
Lying on the bed looking at the broken hinges of the closet door she smiles. Some bones were definitely more lovelier than others. But they will always be connected to the same old broken skeletons in the end.