You told me it was over and then just walked away. You could at least have had the courtesy to slink off but No, away you strode in that matter-of-fact manner, in which you always conducted yourself. My father said that one could judge a lot about a man from his shoes – whether they were polished and whether when he walked, his comings and goings were definite, audible. Watching your back disappear I knew then he was right – you did not make a sound; no footfall echoed in the still and empty passageway. You might just as well have been a ghost.
For the Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence