Novel

Black clouds from burning tires filled the sky. Planks, tape and wires held up the shed that Jim had made during better days. He remember what she said before she turned and walked toward the train. She was yelling and throwing papers up In the air. The yard was littered with the last breaths of her book. Jim was burning the remains. She had always been perfect. She always knew what and when to say something. Until, that day she had always had the final word.