2. Jacob

The sun filtered through the window sheers, throwing yellow light across the room. As Jacob opened his eyes, he could see little particles floating aimlessly through the light. He blinked quickly a couple of times as the rest of the bedroom came into clearer focus. He rolled his head to the side and felt that pang in his chest once again. The other side of the bed was empty. Vacant. Cold. He closed his eyes again and reached his hand over to the other side of the bed. He hated having to remind himself of how his bed felt now. It wasn't just an emptiness in his bed. He took a deep breath and let it out. At least morning smelled the same. Same but different. How does one bridge a gap like this? He wanted to go back to sleep, but the sun was creeping underneath his eyelids. It was a blinding light, even through his skin.
One more deep breath, and he sat up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the window. He looked down on the rows and rows of plants streching out in front of him. This had always been a favorite view. His grandfather had planted most of them, and Jacob had been tending them ever since he could remember. They were the children he was never able to have, and they rewarded him every year with new and amazing gifts. He hated getting sappy about plants. It always seemed so silly to get attached to grapes. They were his livelihood, and he had to always remember to think of them that way. This morning view from the window was usually the only time he took note of the growth below. It only lasted a few minutes, but this was his church, and he wanted to make the most of it before descending down to daily chores in the sand.
Jacob went about his morning rituals of bathing, dressing, and coffee with painstaking attention. These tasks had recently become more important than ever, and more difficult to carry out than ever as well.
Once he finished, he walked slowly out to the main barn, where he had put his office many years ago. The weight of the house left him as he stepped out into the sun, but descended upon him again the second he stepped through the double doors and smelled the dust and wood of the building. It seemed there was no escape from this weighty hole in his chest. All he could do was get started on the paperwork.