He looked about the house one last time, straightened a few of the items and made sure that all the doors were opened wide. He entered her room, it was still in the condition she left it. Nothing moved, nothing altered. He fought back the tears and pressed on.
He could see the shiny trails zipping this way and that through the house and made every effort to avoid them. Once he saw that all was in order he walked to the front of the house and opened the front door.
He stared inside. This was their home. This was His and hers and they were happy. What happened? How did it come to this? It no longer mattered, she was gone and was not coming back. His life here was over, as was hers. So many memories. Memories that would soon be tears in the rain.
He reached into His suit pocket and pulled out the golden Zippo that she had given him. He smiled when looking down at it - it was a fun evening. They had so many adventures . . .
But no, He must steel Himself to the task at hand. He flicked the lighter and it sprang to life with a merry flame. With a single tear He dropped it into the shiny pool at his feet. The flames married the gasoline in perfect unison and then flew through the house utilizing the shiny trails. It didn't take long for the house to be engulfed in flames. It was burning and their life burned with it.
The heat was intense, He could feel it on His face. He was an arsonist, but He figured in the long run it didn't much matter anyway. Turning His back on the burning building he strode casually to His car and sat down. Looking to the house one last time He lowered the roof and cranked the stereo to as loud as it would go.
Revving the engine he crushed the accelerator and the car rushed forward with a jolt and began to accelerate fast. He thought of her one last time, eyes stinging with tears. He found it difficult to steer since His hands were covered in the brake fluid of the line He had cut earlier.
He missed her terribly, He missed what they had. And soon, at this next turn, He wouldn't miss anything anymore . . .