After the door swung open and shut, the room once again fell into solitude.
Elise Don went to the kitchen to find a short glass, scooped a full cup of ice from the ice maker, and then poured wine into it. The pale-yellow liquid, like a rushing mountain stream, slowly filled the gaps between the ice cubes.
Carrying her glass, Elise Don walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, sat down cross-legged, the red and green Christmas decorations outside reflecting on her jade-like face, flickering light and shadow.
After finishing the drink, Elise Don finally felt the dizziness, light-headed and heavy-footed, the world turned upside down. She bravely sent Oliver Bloom another text message: [Merry Christmas.]
The phone lay face-up on the floor as Elise Don slowly took off her sweater and skirt, then bent down to untie the waist strap, slipping out of the last bit of fabric.
Clothes lay scattered on the dark floor, barefoot, she turned and walked toward the bathroom.
