Only a Flower Left

This was it, she thought, as she sat down heavily after the crowds had dispersed. All that was left to her from the man she loved most in the world was a single flower and a cold grey stone, indicating that he was somewhere beneath this earth. She wanted to think he was high up in the clouds, gazing down at her intently, smiling and waving when she looked up.

When she did look up, all she saw were thin streaks of white on an otherwise clear blue sky. Clearly he was camouflaging up there, or else, where had he gone so suddenly?

She felt as though he were standing behind her. Anytime now he would wrap his hands around her from behind, but then the pain hit her that he was gone forever. Shrivelled to this single yellow flower that bloomed as though there was still hope for him to survive.

© 2016

Friday Fictioneers, 12th February 2016

Photo prompt provided by The Reclining Gentleman

15 thoughts on “Only a Flower Left

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