Old

 My feet crunched against the crisp autumn leaves, leaving a trail. I'm surprised how beautiful a cemetery can be. So much mourning took place here, the grass seemed to be soaked in the tears previous. But I feel like the grass around her tombstone was drowning. Engraved in the old, deteriorated stone, stands the name Rosemary Jane Warren with the dates, August 19 1929 - March 22 2013. I traced my frail hands over the rough stone. Three years since her death. I think to myself. It's surprising how fast time seems to fly. It feels like only a few days ago, my eyes had been graced by her bright eyes and glowing features.

"Do you remember, Rose?"

"It was a Sunday October 18 1947 , ordinary to be certain. Sure it had been cold, but nothing peculiar for our small northern town. My suit kept me stiff as I briskly walked down main street, away from the picturesque, white church. Just one stop. I thought to myself. I turned sharply into the corner store that had become a daily routine for my Sundays. The bell rang as always,and I glanced up, expecting it to be the usual shopkeep to check on his new customer. But this wasn't him. In fact it wasn't a "him" at all. A willowy figure stood gracefully behind the desk, her gloved hand clutching a notebook closely to her chest.

"Good morning sir." You said nervously, a shy smile glimmered across your beautiful red painted lips.

"G-good morning." I stammered. It wasn't a question, I had to do something more than stand and stutter like a fool. I grabbed the cigars I had stopped for. I paid like a normal gentleman would, but I would make sure I wouldn't just stay an average man in for cigars, I wanted to be more than that to you. I took the bag from your slender hands and quickly glanced into your doey eyes once more before leaving you again.

It was the following Sunday, and this time, I held two white roses in my hand. I walked to the shop door and peered inside. But you weren't there. Perhaps she was in the back. I reassured myself. The familiar ring of the bell droned behind me as I entered the shop. But instead of the girl, a man was there.

"Where is she?"

"Another one??"

"What do you mean another one?"

"Another man here to confess his undying love towards her. You better move along my friend."

I'm not about to lie, this broke me a little. I turned my body solemnly and went to exit, but blocking the door was, you.

"H-hi." You had stammered.

"Hey," You glanced down at the roses. " I got these for you, but I heard of your suitors so."

You walked over to me, gentle strides, light taps of your heels hitting the wooden floor. You gently put your hands around the roses and released my grasp on them.

"Why two?"

"To make up for the first time we met and I didn't do anything."

"Just a little further Rose!" I called to you from atop the hill.

"Why did we have to go so high for this date, Kenneth?" You replied to me breathlessly. But I knew how much you enjoyed the mountains surrounding our town, and this was going to be the best view possible. We went on many, many dates since we met. But I was going to make this one the most memorable. You were catching up quickly. My palms became sweaty as I fiddled with the small box in my hand. You had finally made it up the hill, clutching your long, blue skirt in your hand.

"I didn't dress for this Ken." You complained with a laugh. "Oh my god." You looked up at the view with an enchanted look on your face. "It's absolutely beautiful!"