The last strains of sunlight lingered in the corners, grasping every available point of refraction. She slid her fingertips along the glass wondering if this was all there ever was. Or could be.
Her chest was dark inside, machinating to the beat of survival. If survival was all there was to life, she didn’t see the point. She stepped onto the balcony, teetering over the edge.
Prompt from Trifecta.