Stop all the clocks...

So earlier this week and friend of mine lost the love of her life.
I didn't really know him but the few times I had spoken with him he was nice. Polite. Genuine.
My friend? She's lovely! We weren't besties or anything but we knew enough about each other to drunkenly wrap our arms around each other and poke fun at the world around us. The kind of friend that you never see except at some social gathering but who you're always happy to see.

I try to imagine her face as she was told of her lose. Her thoughts. How she felt physically.
I'm going to through in a cliche here, with the words of W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Love

Red