last evening

I sit on the couch, looking around the flat. It's empty now, the boxes all packed. The walls are bare, the floors creaky. I think about all the memories we've made here, all the laughter and tears. I get up, walk to the kitchen. The sink is empty, the counters clean. I think about all the meals we've cooked, all the conversations we've had. I open the fridge, it's almost empty. Just a few leftovers, a few forgotten things. I close the fridge, look around the kitchen. It's small, but it's been ours. I think about all the mornings, all the nights. I think about the way the sunlight streams through the window, the way the stars twinkle at night. I walk back to the couch, sit down. I look around the flat, feeling a sense of nostalgia. It's been our home, our sanctuary. I think about all the moments, all the memories. I get up, walk to the window. I look out, seeing the city spread out before me. I think about all the things we've done, all the places we've been. I think about the future, the unknown. I turn back to the flat, feeling a sense of sadness. It's the last evening, the last night. Tomorrow we'll be gone, the flat will be empty. I think about all the memories, all the moments. I think about the flat, our home. I sit down on the couch, feeling a sense of loss. It's the end of an era, the end of a chapter. I think about all the things we've shared, all the laughter and tears. I think about the flat, our home. And I wonder, what's next?