They rented the tiny house for several reasons:
one, the chandelier aloft in the halfway living
halfway dining room (one of those Victorian
things draped in crystalline tears). Two,
it was very cheap.

When they moved in, both chuckled at it all:
this new shared space and all its emptiness to fill. 

The chandelier itself, brass and thirty candlelight bulbs, 
ended up wasted.

By the time the separation had begun,
only six were still lit, bouncing shadows around
the room, empty and cold as a cave.