He warned me. I could not keep him. He left no trace. His phone, were I to dial his number now, would ring and ring in the apartment that vanished when he did. The scarves over the windows have faded to grey and hang motionless in the still air.
Dust covers every surface.
Table, chair, kitchen ledge, the cushions of the couch, the bed, if they are even still there. I think I saw those windows from the inside. There was one above the shower, set high in the tiles. The ceiling was blood red. He draped me in a towel.