Their home has a long hallway that leads to their master bedroom.  Down the hall is where the love takes place, and where meaningless conversations hold meaning at the time, and hands are held, and lips are kissed.

Down the hall is where he kicked down the door after their wedding night.  Where they felt like one for a while, and decided that Saturdays were their days.

Down the hall is where they huddled together when they got back their rejected adoption papers.  They hold each other tightly, a stuffed tiger amongst them like a symbol of something that they lost but never truly had.

Down the hall is where he stumbled into the bedroom in a drunken stupor, and told his wife he would never drink again.

Down the hall is where she listened to him on the phone with another woman. She didn’t say anything to him the next morning.

Down the hall is where her first match was lit, and her lungs began to blacken.

Down the hall is where he is with the woman who he spoke to on the phone,

Down the hall is where their first aggression took place.  But we all know she is so clumsy and happened to trip down the stairs to acquire a shiner like that.  She is okay.  She is happy.  She is smiling.

Down the hall is where the wedding rings were thrown, and promises were broken.

Down the hall is where she packed her bags while he was out at the bar with a lady who was far uglier than her.

Down the hall is where she opened the door to reveal the long dark corridor that would show the path to a new life.  She shut the door behind her, pulling along the suitcase she was going to use on their trip to Hawaii.  Soon the darkness consumes her, and she can no longer see the door that once gave her comfort.

Down the hall is where she promises she will never be again.