Like January Rain
The new year falls and shatters at Dorcas' feet with the arrival of Sirius Black on her doorstep. She falls and shatters, too, but only on the inside, and she shuts her eyes so he can't see.
Just like that (a few words and an awkward, shuffled apology that clearly said I picked the shortest straw), Fabian is gone and the world is in broken ceramic shards around her feet, only a few hours into what should've been, what they would have made a bright and happy year.
The needles from the Christmas tree are falling, falling like the freezing grey rain outside the cottage; they litter the polished wood floor, stick into Dorcas' (not Dorie any longer, the only one in all the world to call her that is gone gone gone) back while she lies under the tree, staring up through the boughs at the fairy lights and ornaments and the golden star at the pinnacle.
When she Vanishes the tree later that day, she forgets to do the ornaments, as well. Suddenly hanging from nothing, there's almost a moment where they are suspended in place. And then the almost ends and they fall in a January rain of splintering glass and shattering porcelain, singing final laments in ringing ruin from the hardwood floor.
I wrote this after taking my Christmas tree down. That particular chore always makes me sad. Anyway, holidays are really over now. Back to England, back to school...I have mixed feelings about this right now. We'll see how things are on my return; I have my flight(s) tomorrow and hopefully, I'll be feeling verbose and creative during transit...such a long way. :(