Picture courtesy of Melanie Greenwood
The dappled light filtering through the trees brings to mind a time and place where memories linger.
Word count: 102
The sun rippled through the weeping willows, dappling her bare arms as they wrapped around her waist. Memories played at the edges of sight, laughter echoing as John chased her through the maze. Her breath caught, remembering how she wanted to be found, to turn to him and surrender to his touch.
The gazebo was their safe spot, but he’d pushed too far. Grace lay on her back looking up at the roof, wondering if he was watching from wherever he was. His final touch, so cold, the fire in his eyes gone. Time dims some memories; others remained forever. She’d said no.
© Erin Leary
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