He took a deep breath and put the bunch of
roses by her side. The sweet odour struck him. He looked around, wondering if
anyone could help him...
Football match, his team playing, number
31 on his jersey... He remembered the final goal, the triumphant music, the
noise of the stadium and her eyes. All the awards...all the support she gave
him... He never told her how glad he was that she believed in him. Although it
was the perfect moment...
The image of the wedding party stood
before his eyes. She was there, her red dress, her dark hair. She really was a
looker. He loved her very much. They danced all night. Mechanically, he started
murmuring a melody from that day...
A chill of cold wind returned him back to
life. His hands were very cold. It was so cold and so calm. Winter. She liked
winter. She would go skating and playing snowballs with him. He remembered how
they sat by the fire, clinging to each other, drinking hot chocolate. He felt
warmth inside, almost the taste of chocolate on his lips....
Someone gave a slight cough. His memories
interrupted. He looked before him - there was she. Dressed in white. Her hair
was done the way he liked it. He wanted to touch her, but someone said it was
not proper. It was the 26th of December, the day she loved so much, their 43rd
anniversary. He put the red roses by her side, and, bowing to her, whispered,
"You have still got the looks, I love you so much."
In a few minutes they closed the coffin....
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1 comment:
it s nice. simple and easy read!
but i would still say start writing your own experiences. it s easy to write because u have lived it, so you can put it across in a better manner compared to something you just imagine.
give it shot...and do keep writing!
love
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