Lost in timeless fall.
The young lady was looking outside with an absent look. She was deeply thinking, or maybe feeling. Her eyes were following the falling leaves as they were floating around. Recurrent noises in the diner were not even a disturbance anymore, only her breath was vibrant in her lungs.
Someone had turned the music on.
The policemen was eating his breakfast, preoccupied by an empty stomach.
Further away, a lonely man was eating his eggs while talking to himself about his dog or his ex.
The waitress would refill an empty cup or two, from time to time.
The young lady was staying still, not moving. Her eyes were stretched on the land outside, and the leaves would still fall, scattering endlessly. Her breath would be filled with emotional struggle.
The music was soft.
The policemen had left.
The lonely man was running outside, his dog hurt by a passing car.
The waitress was cleaning up empty cups.
The young lady, empty eyes, was still looking at an empty outside, seeing an empty land, with no more leaves falling from the trees, giving place to a nothing-at-all kind of emptiness. Her breathing was normal, but felt completely useless.
The music went silent.
Everyone had finally left.
The waitress, now alone, was crying wholeheartedly.
The young lady was now looking at the waitress. Leaflets, commands and receipts of all sort would now scatter around on the old floor. The door was locked, nobody would come at this hour. The waitress was quietly minding her business, her breathing shortened by sorrow and sadness.
The young lady was not breathing.
One cannot breathe when being dead.
Outside, the golden leaves were scattered all around the cold soil of the old cemetery.
The young lady stood up, looking at her mother one last time.
One last time before her own burial.