She sits in her chair. Her head perched in her hand. She’s been waiting and she can’t anymore. But she can’t stop, not until he gets there. Tonight, the dress she has on is emerald green. The silver band around her ring finger sparkles in the moonlight. He’s not back yet. Where is he? The front door creaks open. A large shadow pours in. Heavy footsteps are audible through the whistles of the wind coming from outside. The footsteps come closer, making their way across the wooden floor. They got louder and louder until they were right outside. The large, oak door creaks open. The figure steps in, the light behind him illuminating his features. She stands and tries to take a step closer. The billowing fabric of her emerald dress got caught on an exposed nail in the floor. She stumbles and falls at the feet of the footsteps’ owner. She looks up at the figure

“It is done” he says in a low, gravelly voice. She sighs a sigh of relief as the figure turns and walks away, heavy footsteps fading into the wind.