Prompt-tober 2015: Day Thirty

I really don’t have too much to add other than I just grabbed a picture from Write World and stared at it till I came up with something I liked. Hope your Friday is going swell!


You used to meet by the wooden fence where your grandma’s roses would grow across each year. Sometimes you’d just sit and talk, catch up since the last time you saw each other, other times you’d trade books and comics, and occasionally you played games with is brothers or friends that were over at his house. During the year you couldn’t wait for the weekend trips to your grandparents so that after dinner and some catch up you could run out and see him. And when summer came you couldn’t wait to start living there for the season and get to spend as much time as possible with him.

It stayed like that until you were both eighteen and you left after that summer for your respective colleges. Of course through the miracle of modern technology you kept in touch, but it was never the same as sitting by that fence in the green grass. At some point the messages only came on birthdays or holidays if they came at all some years. It of course made you sad, broke a small part of your heart you’d even say, but it was a natural progression.

So now when you approach that same beaten up fence at the age of twenty-nine, you’re a little surprised just how much emotion comes swelling up inside of you. The day is way to warm for the all black ensemble you have on but you didn’t really get a say in your wardrobe. Your grandma is gone. A week ago she slipped away to be with your grandpa and after days spent with family, holding each other together, you needed a break. Your walk led you here, where her roses are thriving.

The rustle of steps in the grass alerts you to the presence of another, you look over your shoulder and there he is. Much taller than you remember but the auburn hair is still the same shade, his eyes are still big and brown, and his smile is achingly familiar. He gives you a small nod and you return a light smile in return. The silence feels more like home than all the talking with extended family you’ve been up to and when he comes to stop right beside you the weight of his presence doesn’t feel heavy at all.

Easily he slides his hand into yours and you feel a breath flow out of you like a heavy rock has been lifted off your chest. You don’t even think about how your body just naturally leans into him and your head falls up on his shoulder. It feels like all those days growing up together all over again.



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