Harold stood looking out of the window. It was dark outside, the night sky was clear and the air was still. Quietly he stepped out onto the porch of the house that he and John had shared for such a short time. He leant against the railing to steady himself as he looked up into the sky. Which one of those bright points of light would be John he wondered?
As he stood there missing his friend and lover, he had a feeling that someone was behind him. He felt a faint breath of air across his neck. He closed his eyes willing the sensation to come again. There it was, warm and gentle. Opening his eyes he turned hoping to see John standing there, where he always did, just behind him. But John wasn't there and Harold realised sadly that it was only wishful thinking on his part. He turns and silently goes inside as a tear rolls down his cheek.