Short Stories: A Collection

Blue Rose

Written on 2 Nov 2011.

Copyrighted © 2012, permafrost   All rights reserved

Blue Rose

I smile to myself as I sit on the bench beside the lake we know since so many years ago. Treasured memories lie here, and I know he remembers everything we've gone through together.

The moon tonight is a crescent, so bright and magnificent, hanging high up in the starlit sky. Isn't the night wonderful for this day that I've been waiting for so long?

In my hand, I hold a blue rose, a rose given to me by him. It's withering and dying with petals falling with every small movement I make. But, I'm still smiling. I'm no sadist, but whenever I recall the promise that he made to me, I can't help but feel happy even during the darkest moments of my life. Love makes me feel great.

I look around the area, at the sparkling waters in front of me; I breathe in the smell of the cooling air, the smell of damp soil from this afternoon's rain. I wonder when he'll be coming? It's getting late.

And I anticipate for his sudden arrival as I see the last petal of that blue rose twirl beautifully in the light breeze before making its landing.

One full second passes by and I still can't see him anywhere.

Has he forgotten his promise to me? That when the rose finally drops all of its petals naturally as it withers, he'll come back to me?

I stare at the pathetic bald rose and sigh. Maybe he's just caught up with something... Or maybe he's with another girl? I shake that thought out of my head. No, he's someone who's reliable, kind, caring, and definitely a loving boyfriend. He won't do anything to lose my trust. He won't... He won't...

I survey the area again -- at the trees swaying along to the rhythm of the wind, leaves rustling, playing their own forest song. Hours and hours I wait, and still no sign of him.

A distant rumble of thunder sound and rain starts to fall again. Even the skies feel sad for me. Who knows, it might have wanted to stop me from getting here in the first place when it rained earlier today, but it just didn't succeed as the clouds' moisture dried up at the wrong time.

I sit there like a drenched and lost puppy. Am I crying? I don't know, because my face is wet from the droplets of the sobbing heavens. It seems he really has forgotten about me.