He slept while she left. Sneaking out of the bedroom and tiptoed down the hall. Her own reflection in the kitchenwindow almost made har jump, not wanting anyone to see her. Light feet at the spots were the floorboard disaproved, haltering before entering the darkness in the hall to prepare her eyes. She picked up her sneekers, folded her jacket, almost in slow motion turning the key around, holding her breath. Then the door slid open, without a sound she was out. He was still sleeping, without notice, without knowledge. She laughed in silence, a gost in the night, a free spirit, an untamed heroine. Out and into the endless open, every oportunity awailable to choose. No passed life to forcefully bend into. No traces left but her scent in the wardrobe.