The Old Coca-Cola Truck:

The rain poured down harshly, dark clouds covering the fall afternoon. A cup of tea sat in the hand of a middle aged woman, the only thing giving her warmth from her spot on the window still. She couldn’t see too far down the driveway, and the rain fall drowns out any other sound, but she knew. Today he should be back. Today she should have been seeing the old truck with coca-cola labeled on the trunk pull into the garage. A soft kiss and a warm hug as welcome from the cold, but the folded flag in her lap told a different story. The opened tear-stained letter on the table explained. He would never be coming home.