The doorbell rang. She crawled out of the warm quilt, yanked her hair in a quick ponytail and scrambled for slippers.
Outside, in a glass vase, sat an assortment of colorful flowers. She glanced at the newspaper that lay beside: the 14th of February. She had always dismissed red roses as a cliche and he knew that.
Her head felt heavy and she shut the door tight, buckling down on the floor, against the door.
A mélange of emotions: confusion, disbelief and then the one that dwarfed them all—grief.
Had he pre-ordered them? Will they arrive every year?
Picture Credit: Dale Rogerson
Linking to Friday Fictioneers
Well, this is so sad 🙁
A very good sense of the persistence of people who leave us, although I'm not sure how I'd feel if my significant other scheduled gifts for me (despite its efficiency)!
Dear Sara,
A touching story. Very sad.
Welcome to Friday Fictioneers.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Lovely take on the prompt
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Thanks for the prompt Rochelle!
Thank you!
Thanks for stopping by,Zainab!
Thanks for the kind words!
Oh! That's heart-breaking and beautiful at the same time!
I know someone who did that. a dozen red roses each anniversary day. With a card that says "I may be gone, but my love never leaves." Well done on capturing the essence!