Tuesday, 8 November 2016

Single Red Rose

The single red rose fell at the usual speed, and yet it’s still falling, even now.

I can see it, whenever I close my eyes, be it in yet another fitful attempt to sleep, or just when I blink, the rose falls yet again.

The bud had just opened, it was still at the phase where it was barely more than a bud. She always preferred them like that, she found the fully extended flower to be too big, too showy.

That’s why I gave her that one.

That’s why she was holding it.

Then it fell when she did.

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