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Blue hour
《 #WritcoStoryPrompt120 》
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Write a story based on the phrase "You will realize a person's worth when they are gone."
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The fog of blue hour set upon the small American northwestern town. Time seemed to almost warp at this time while the streets stayed silent in a veil of navy, accented by the bright yellow window panes of worn old houses. the same yellow that reminds me of the amber color of his eyes.
Time and change is supposed to feel freeing and healing, but it feels like I'm still stuck on the day you were forced to part ways with our haven.
Standing under the orange streetlights after a long restless night feels like summer's long gone warm rays. It's like you left with the sun. Walking over the same overgrown sidewalks and pathways that bordered the old growth forests that towered over the hills of streets and houses. The fog blocked out the pines' cold blue faces as my eyes met their's.
You said you'd be here, with me. No matter what. But the sound of waves off the rugged coast shrouded in mist echoed in the hole you left in my being. Red and orange leaves soaking into the ground remind me of your firey orange dyed hair, the undertones of your warm skin. And each time I recall your face, it seems to fade more and more from my memory.
Greens and browns reflect your style in clothes, the earth tones that kept me grounded have me chained.
Wandering off the paved track, through a long, dark, forested dirt path we used to run down, I was met with a clearing, cut abruptly by the relenting sea. The dirt turned to unsaturated yellowish sand before blending into the blueish gray sea.
Here I sat. The ground was soft, cold, and wet. Sand stuck to my clothes as I laid myself on my back, staring at the monotonously deep blue sky, tree tops lining the top of my vision. You should be here with me. Before you left, I couldn't see you leaving me. But now you're gone, I feel as if I took you for granted.
I'm sorry.
© Rynne
____________
Write a story based on the phrase "You will realize a person's worth when they are gone."
____________
____________
The fog of blue hour set upon the small American northwestern town. Time seemed to almost warp at this time while the streets stayed silent in a veil of navy, accented by the bright yellow window panes of worn old houses. the same yellow that reminds me of the amber color of his eyes.
Time and change is supposed to feel freeing and healing, but it feels like I'm still stuck on the day you were forced to part ways with our haven.
Standing under the orange streetlights after a long restless night feels like summer's long gone warm rays. It's like you left with the sun. Walking over the same overgrown sidewalks and pathways that bordered the old growth forests that towered over the hills of streets and houses. The fog blocked out the pines' cold blue faces as my eyes met their's.
You said you'd be here, with me. No matter what. But the sound of waves off the rugged coast shrouded in mist echoed in the hole you left in my being. Red and orange leaves soaking into the ground remind me of your firey orange dyed hair, the undertones of your warm skin. And each time I recall your face, it seems to fade more and more from my memory.
Greens and browns reflect your style in clothes, the earth tones that kept me grounded have me chained.
Wandering off the paved track, through a long, dark, forested dirt path we used to run down, I was met with a clearing, cut abruptly by the relenting sea. The dirt turned to unsaturated yellowish sand before blending into the blueish gray sea.
Here I sat. The ground was soft, cold, and wet. Sand stuck to my clothes as I laid myself on my back, staring at the monotonously deep blue sky, tree tops lining the top of my vision. You should be here with me. Before you left, I couldn't see you leaving me. But now you're gone, I feel as if I took you for granted.
I'm sorry.
© Rynne
