A Telling Wind

February 21, 2011 | 1 Comment

The wind blew sharply and the coiling clouds scuffed the treetops. He stood, looking. Years ago, he had stood here holding her hand, both of them looking. Now, it was just him.

His arthritic fingers cramped, and he gently rubbed his old hands together. He had promised her he would come here one last time. Just one last time. As he looked, the autumn woods groaning in the wind about him, he wondered at how lightening-fast the years had passed. Could it..have been..70 years since he first saw her? It was a cruel irony, he thought, to end up alone, but then, it was just a matter of little time before the wind would scoop him up and carry him to her.

Remember.

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1 Comment so far

  1. Lesly on August 15, 2011 12:17 PM

    such a tender writting, I love this one so much. It touched my heart deeply. Keep up the heart sharing, I found myself actualy standing in the woods and feeling what you wrote. I love how you put someone in the experience of what you write, great descriptions and words. Thank you for sharing.:)

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