Carefully trying to do up her shoes, without scuffing her freshly polished nails. Late, again, as always she’s running behind. Standing in the doorway propping himself against the door he watches her, as he has been since she began to get ready. Watching how she put on her make-up with such precision and detail, and how she carefully tied up her long blonde hair, gently twisting it and placing chopsticks in to hold it in place, watching how the front pieces of her hair fall out onto to her delicate face. How she gently pulled her soft pale blue chiffon dress over her head and down over her body, skimming over her every curve. Watching how she painted her nails with such accuracy and concentration, she never even noticed him watching, not even once. Nails finally finished, looking at the clock, ‘Oh god, I’m late already’ She softly whispered to herself, looking to find her shoes, last place as always...under the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed she carefully tries to do up her shoes without scuffing her still wet nails. Still watching, ever intrigued. Uncrossing his strong arms he gently walks over to the bed, kneels in front of her and so delicately fastens her tiny shoes with his large strong paws. Words unspoken, silence only the sound of their breathing and the grandfather clock chiming eight in the hallway. Eyes locked to each others, as if reading each other’s mind, both exchanging the same sorrowful, awkward glance. Both longing for that feeling to go away. Breaking the stare, she looks at her now fastened shoes, takes her hands off her knee and places them palm down on the bed either side of her, sighing softly she stands up and carefully smoothes out the creases in her dress. Looking up at her from the floor as she carefully brushes out the creases, he longs to talk to her but can’t find the words, when he does they won’t come out. He moves his strong body and stands to face her, she turns to look at the bedside table, looking at the picture still sitting there, she looks away and picks up her purse off the bed and gently brushes past him. Taking in every essence of her touch and her scent that she leaves behind wherever she goes.  Following her as she so graciously floats down the stairs, stopping at the front door to wrap a shawl around her pale soft smooth skin. Still longing for the words to say, the words still not coming out he watches as she picks up her keys, opens the door and leaves.