Just past midnight after a long Saturday. That means it’s Sunday Photo Fiction day! I haven’t been doing this for too long, but this is easily my favorite photo I’ve seen on here. There’s little better way to describe it than art. Nice work, Al!
I fought the urge to brush away the cherry blossoms. From far away, they’d reminded me of dust bunnies scattered on my mother’s grave. But up close … well, they looked like cream-colored tears.
I read the inscription on the tombstone for what seemed like the millionth time:
Lauren P. Withers
Mother, Wife, Friend
“I miss you, Mom. Thirteen years apart. It’s been so hard. But worse than that, I’ll never see you again.”
I swirled a few of the petals across the grave, careful not to move them off the stone. I wasn’t going to do that. The tears were too beautiful to be cleaned up.
“I just wish I could talk to you one last time. Just to say, hi. Maybe have a chat.”
A soft breeze rustled the branches. And I found myself awash in a new wave of cherry blossom petals cascading around me.
“Nice talking to you.”