This post is an entry for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers for this week.
Thanks Dawn M. Miller for the pic.
It was here that I met her two years ago, the same season, the same place, the same bench.
There was nothing unusual about her or about us but something peculiar that I can’t explain- it just made me talk to her.
We then met every day, discussing everything under the sky- music, movies, literature, travel, books, and nature. We never knew anything about each other except our names and opinions. We preferred to keep it that way. She was like a breath of fresh air- the most amazing thing to have happened to me!
Until one day, she never came back. I knew not where to find her, I knew not who to ask. All I had was her name and her memory.
It was here, that I met her two years ago, the same season, the same place, the same bench.
And I sit here, even today, on the same bench-waiting for her to come back.
I have a tendency to write something that is either romantic or utterly disappointing and depressing. Apologies for the same 🙂