The white rose was laid immaculately on the white plate next to an empty white cup. A small note was carefully placed under the plate as it was put there deliberately to grab the attention of every guest attending the room. I walked inside the rather dark room where the only rays of lights were coming from the slightly opened curtains. I could see the tiny molecules of dust dancing in the little brightness of sun with no purpose of a destination. The room was filled with the sweet-spicy fragrance of the white rose. My heart started racing, the memory of us being here rushed back like it was just yesterday. I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath back. I was back here again but this time I was on my own, lonely. This is where it all started! The love story that followed many years of togetherness. Now, today is when the journey of isolation will begin and the only thing that will bind us together is our memory spent here, right here in this place.

I open the curtains slightly more. The last sun rays of the day are shinning weakly over the meadows of yellow rattle flowers. The disappearance of the pleasant heat of the summer sun rays makes the room chilly. The dusk is fast approaching and the time shows 8. I wish I could stop the clock. Tomorrow morning, we are going to scatter his ashes over the shallow ditch at the edge of the meadow where the narrow stream runs through. This was his favourite place and tomorrow he will rest in peace in the heart of the glorious meadow as he wished for it. The bench on the side of the ditch makes a perfect spot to indulge in the stillness and beauty of this place. This is where I will be saying my last words to him exactly in the same location as we spoke the first words. 

       


© Mojos