Post 1634. Sunday November 12
When bickering turned to bitterness they went their separate ways. Whilst she continued to enjoy their lavish lifestyle, he descended into a pit of deep depression. A shadow of his former self, he spent his empty days wandering the streets dependent upon the generosity of the caring few, yet invisible to most, his once stylish attire now frayed scruffy clothes and a filthy coat tied with a length of knotted cord.
No soft bed for him, not for years. At night he had a few hours restless sleep in a shop doorway, before shuffling off at sunrise. But the other morning he was still there when the shopkeeper arrived to open the store. Thinking him to be asleep, she gently nudged his frail body. He fell to one side, never again to wake. That evening a single red rose lay on the spot where he spent his final moments.
This morning a street cleaner swept up a limp flower as it tumbled along the pavement in the chill winter wind.
Word count 169