And, just like that, it was the next day.
Caroline slowly blinked her eyes then opened them wide as the sun beamed through her cracked wooden window. She sat up in her bed, yawned and stretched, then got out and sleepily made her way to the large window. Another damn beautiful day, she thought with a hint of remorse as she turned away from it and trudged into the bathroom. When she reached the small and intimate black ad white tiled room, she closed the door behind her then sat on the side of the clawed foot tub and began to cry. Not the soft and barely noticeable form of crying in which someone could get away with, saying that they were going through an allergic reaction so as not to draw cause for concern. Rather, she cried without restraint or form. She hiccuped and moaned as large round tears dripped down her nose and on her black pajama bottoms. Daniel was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. He died with a smile on his face and left her still alive, still able to enjoy beautiful days that beamed through their, now her, cracked wooden framed window at their house. Caroline cried for another five minutes then got up and wiped her face with a warm and wet towel and returned to her bedroom, back to the window that welcomed a new day to her. The sunflowers, his favourite, gathered under the window and showed off their yellow petals to her. She looked off and saw the next house down, a good walk away and wondered if they were awake. Her neighbours, an older man and his wife named Lucas and Claire, both painters and free spirits, had always made her and Daniel welcomed at their house no matter the time. Caroline felt a shudder through her body then sighed as she leaned out and felt the warmth of the day blessing her tear streaked skin. Yes, she thought, her lover, her friend, her guide was gone and yet the next day came. It came with no waiting nor any hesitation. It came because it had to. Caroline stared at the house again as a ghost of a smile appeared on her face. It was the next day, after all.