Contemplation
I already stretched my arm and put together my fingers into a fist when I hesitated for the 100th time.
She would think I'm overreacting.
She would think I'm obsessive compulsive.
She had thought about it beforehand, that's why she didn't come in the first place, stupid.
Don't even think about it. Just do it.
Behind me was the abandoned garden, the neighbourhood and the vast memories of the times we had spent together. Blithe and grim. Strangely enough, they were all in greyscale.
In an instance my sight also turned black and white.
I knocked on her front door.