The sun had just set when he appeared near the park bench. He walked slowly past the flower bed, eventually picking one. he held the flower in one hand, putting the other in his pocket to protect it from the cold. He sat down on the bench, twirling the flower in his hand. he sat and stared.
Those old hands holding the flower. Those chocolate brown eyes holding in tears. Those shoulders slumping. It's only been a week.
The lights on the lamppost flickered, casting him into darkness. Memories flashing through his mind. The flower not dying like his love, holding strong even after being disconnected. The wispy clouds slightly move revealing the sky, the stars reminding him of many nights spent together stargazing and laughing at his terrible jokes. Gone in an instant as they laughed at everything. But that was gone now.
The way he smiled, his eyes lit up and he would clap his hands. All gone in an instant. A moment he had always known would come when he thought about it. A moment he had dreaded for years. A moment he will never forget. The last moment together. Now all he has are memories the moments that are slowly fading with his age.
He twisted his head, looking over the park, memories flashing, the first time getting, the first date, the first time meeting her friends. All memories of a life he used to live with someone else. Times had changed.
He closed his eyes, soon standing from the bench and moving towards the lake. He placed the flower into the water, letting in float away. Just like he had me.
He slowly turned walking away, back to the hays he had spent his whole adult life in. The house with all the memories of a life he longed to get back. He smiled to himself, knowing not every day had to be as monotonous as he knew. After all, we will meet again soon.
YOU ARE READING
Story Time
短篇故事This is going to be a collection of stories that I have written for many different things and I though I should share them here so that you can enjoy them.
