paper thin

It's 6 AM. The echoing of raindrops fill the empty apartment. There is a clock ticking somewhere. No one has been home for days and the dust has started to collect on the windowsills. Suddenly, a key turns and the door swings open. A woman in her early twenties carries a somber expression and a broken umbrella. She struggles to close the door against the strong wind of the storm. Exhausted and soaking wet she trudges through the apartment burdened with a heavy load of bags and suitcases. Once in the bedroom, she stumbles over various articles of clothing strewn about the carpet, tosses her bags on the ground, and finally collapses on the bed.

bah. horray for writers block. this sucks. goodbye.