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
FELICIA HEILGENDORFF 
So sad 😢 beautifully written though.
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Thank you.
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the pain of grief… we done
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Indeed… Thank you.
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Painfully sad, the unbelieving stage of grief.
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Indeed, the disbelief mingled with the slow realisation.
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These flowers have brought so much sadness this week. Well told tale of sorrow.
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Thank you – I suppose it’s because they look so much like flowers decorating a grave.
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Sad and lovely.
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Thank you. Grief is a terrible thing.
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I love the rawness of this… beautifully written!
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Thank you! Yes, the rawness of grief…
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My pleasure, Felicia 🙂
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Such a beautiful, heart touching story!
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Thank you! I appreciate the kind words.
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