Keys were splatterd across the floor, broken pieces lying in every corner of the room. He took a step and felt a pinch under his bare sole, lifting it up to find an 'x'.
"X marks the spot," he muttered and flicked the piece back to the ground. It clattered against the wood, stirring up a couple of the other plastic letters on the ground.
He flung his foot at them and they slid with a clack across the floor. He knew he should clean them up but what did it matter anymore; she was gone. All that was left was the sound of a keyboard breaking on the table, and the feeling of his heart shattering with it.
He wondered where she was now, she had left so quickly she hadn't taken anything. Desperately he looked around, trying to find something he could use to call her back. There was nothing, no hope of seeing her again.
Sometimes it hurt him that he loved her that much.
Carefully he treaded his way amongst the letters and grabbed a broom. Slowly he begun to make a small pile from the broken keyboard, watching as the letters formed words and then being mixed up in the next sweep.
He looked over the floor, eyeing for any leftover pieces. He didn't want any memories of her. Getting down on his knees he put his face to the ground. Reaching out he picked up a piece that he had missed. 'Y.'
"Why did she leave?" He said aloud, almost hoping for her to answer.
In the corner of his eye he spotted another piece and he begun to crawl towards it.
Embedded in his palm was a 'B.'
"Be that as it may," he sighed and continued towards the other piece.
Picking it up he saw it was an 'E'.
"Eeeee... I've got nothing."
He slouched against the back of the wall, the three letters grasped in his hand.
"Next time I'll hide the keyboard." But he knew there wouldn't be a next time.
He twisted the three letters around in his hand, hearing the cold plastic click against his nails.
"No more," he muttered, letting the pieces slip from his hand.
He glanced down at them and scoffed.
"Bye." And he knew it was goodbye; the love of his life disappeared with the crash of a keyboard and a slammed door.
He pulled himself up from the ground. There was nothing he could do and he had accepted it. Tomorrow he'd buy himself a new keyboard. He couldn't put the pieces back together but maybe he could start afresh, typing the letters to a new story.