I’ll see you again my dear Flower

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The dust from the room settled on my chair. I could feel the sun’s rays on my face.

The birds were chirping their songs through the air, and the bees buzzed past my ears.

“Never close this window.” He would always say, holding my hand. “It’s where I saw you for the first time.”

I was 18 when I saw him walking down our street. I had opened my window to let the cool breeze dry my tears.

The echos of “I told you so” rang through my head. My heart was broken for the last time, and I began the long journey of walking the road alone, again.

As the pain of tear after tear hung in my eye, they began to fall down my face, and then I saw him. He was looking at me. With sorrowful eyes he grabbed a piece of paper from his backpack and folded it into a flower, and put it on the side of the road.

As he placed the flower on the ground he looked up at me and gave me a reassuring smile as if to say, “you’re going to be okay. This is the beginning.”

My eyes followed him as far as they could. As I brought my head back through the window I hit the window frame and the dust began settling on my face. I started sneezing.

I came back to reality. It’s been 10 years since the day my life was changed forever. I will always remember his last words to me…”I’ll see you again my dear Flower.”

Sarah Skepple 

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