Today's OneWord: Longing

I didn't know exactly how many days she had stayed in that house. Whether or not she was longing for pieces of her past - her husband, her father, her friends and family, her elderly cat - I couldn't tell. All I could discern was her gray silhouette floating like smoke behind the pink curtains that hid her bedroom from the outside world. The stained glass windows, with painted roses, had no eyes, so they couldn't exchange sad, empathetic glances with me.