The only sound in the office was the sound of quiet sobbing. A lone figure hunched over his desk. Around him lie the broken shards of assorted vials and jars that he had broken in his anger, before the tears came on. Blood dripped from a cut on his palm, but he didn't notice, nor did he care.

Finally, the sobbing ceased, and he looked up at the shattered glass. It was shattered on the outside, just like he was shattered on the inside.

The only woman he had ever loved was dead. Life was not worth living anymore.