He sat beneath the tree, guitar clumsily across his knees. He’d started learning to play only a few months ago, and he was proud that the first song he’d learned was one of her favorites. Even if he couldn’t play very well yet, he could still sing. It was his voice that had drawn her to him.
“Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I’ll be there...”
She’d promised that to him, and now he kept the same promise in return. If the people in town didn’t understand why he stopped to play a song under the tree every day, no matter the weather, then they didn’t understand how much he’d loved her. They didn’t understand how much he’d cared for her, how much he’d done for her - and didn’t know that’s where he’d buried her.
(142 words)
1 comment:
Sad. Very strong imagery.
Beautiful at the same time
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