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only bare hardwood floors, an old rocking chair and nothing else. The room displayed neither knick knacks nor figurines, not even a single lamp. Breezy found herself sitting in the rocking chair and began to rock, the wooden floors creaking loudly in protest at the movement. Surprised at how much effort it took, she stood up and walked shakily over to the mirror using a cane for support. Horror clutched her at heart with icy fingers. She was old…incredibly old! Her once dark auburn hair was snowy white, tied up in a wispy bun on top of her head. The shoes she was wearing were old lady’s shoes, as outdated as the dress and crocheted shawl draped around her shoulders. The eyes reflecting back at her looked old and weary, the skin of her face pale and wrinkled. Her expression was fixed in a permanent prune faced frown.
    The darkened room was damp and dingy, the glowing fireplace doing little to brighten or warm it, or her growing feeling of loneliness. Her gaze settled on the window to the left of the fireplace. With trembling arms and legs, she walked over to it and pulled back the dusty yellow curtains, using the corner of her shawl to wipe away decades of dust from one of the panes.
    The sun was shining brightly and the trees were alive with vibrant, fiery color. It was a beautiful autumn day. Across the street, she could see Susan and Tom walking together with their arms wrapped lovingly around each other. They were laughing and talking happily, both still young and beautiful. Breezy banged on the window and called to them, but they didn’t even notice her. She watched them as they disappeared down the street.
    A group of children soon appeared playing in the yard below. She tapped on the window and waved to them. She loved watching children play. They looked up and pointed their fingers at her before running away in fear. She tried to call them back to tell them it was okay, but they quickly disappeared from sight.
    All the brightly colored leaves began to dry up and turn brown. They curled in on themselves and fell from the trees one-by-one as the trees died. Thick black clouds rolled across the beautiful sky, turning the bright day dark, gray and cold. The wind picked up and began howling mournfully.
    As Breezy sighed and let the dirty curtain fall from her trembling, aged hand, the window disappeared. She walked back to her rocking chair and sat down. When she looked up again, a small white dog was sitting just out of reach. She bent over slowly, stretched out her hand, and chirped coaxingly to him. The little dog pricked up his ears, tilted his head from side to side, whimpered and ran away, disappearing into the darkness.
    As Breezy sat back down and began to rock, the mirror above the fireplace slowly vanished. Little by little, the fire began to fail and eventually died out completely. The wind outside moaned eerily. The air blowing down the chimney grew colder and colder while the ashes from the fireplace blew onto her feet, covering them slowly. Darkness enveloped her like a shroud. The only sounds in the room were her wretched sobs, the howling of the wind and the creak, creak, creak of the old rocking chair.
    Strangling on a scream lodged deep in her throat, Breezy shot bolt upright in abject terror. What a horrible nightmare! She was also freezing cold. That must’ve been what woke me up , she thought, trembling as much from the cold as from the memory of the dream.
    Susan’s words came back to haunt her, “If you keep being hateful to every man who walks into your life, you’re going to be one lonely, bitter old lady with no one to share your twilight years with. Now, that would be a real shame, Breezy…a real damn shame.” Breezy shuddered at the thought, knowing those feelings all too well…being lonely, being all alone in the world. These were feelings she never wanted to experience again, let alone for the rest of her life.
    She went around turning on every light in the living room and kitchen to