I don’t think. Don’t think.

The sun was shining through his window. He woke up. Half awake, he turned over and the other side of the bed was empty. She was gone, left without notice. He wondered if she was actually there. Was it a dream? If it was, why did he have to wake up. A rhetorical question. He groaned, turning back over across the bed.

He brushed off the thought beginning his day, it was still early. He walked into the bathroom, opening the door, and there written on the mirror, was a message. The bathroom was large. A vessel sink bowl with a half open flowing facuet, spacious multi white drawers, surrounding of faux flowers and incense. Pou- pourri. To make guests comfortable in going.

There was a translucent glass panel sliding open to a shower where water fell from the ceiling, like rain. He flicked on the switch to heat the tiled floors beneath as he entered. Always looking for ways to make life a little more comfortable. He turned to the rectangular mirror.

Phi, the golden ratio, better known for representing divine inspired sense of order and simplicity. A mathematical distillation to nature’s beauty.

Oh, the message. It was written in her lipstick with a heart at the end. They left little things for each other here and there. The little things always counted.