May 3, 2010
By Sarah Stark GOLD, Bolingbrook, Illinois
Sarah Stark GOLD, Bolingbrook, Illinois
10 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Sweet fragrances radiated from the daffodils in her soft mahogany hair. As she carefully removed the imperceptibly glowing flowers from her hair and handed them to him, a small, heart-wrenching teardrop landed on the overly bright petal. It occurred to him then that he would never see her again in this world. The wept in the comfort of each other’s arms, knowing that behind him a bus had come to bear him away to unfamiliar lands. She grew accustomed to his absence only due to the daily letter professing his love that she received…until one day the letters ceased altogether and there seemed nothing more to fill his absence. She imagined him hard at work, unable to write for her own protection’s sake, and she did not anger nor sadden...at least not before a car pulled into the drive. In a crisp suit and head bowed with grief, she recognized his commander at her door. He handed her an official grievance notice and a letter so quickly scrawled it was almost impossible to read. The commander asserted that he had been a brave solider; he brought pride to his country. She only faintly heard this of course as overwhelming pain engulfed the entirety of her being. After he left then house was a shambled memory of laughter and music and joy, he seemed to have sucked it out of even the woman herself. Her body was discovered later that night, with no injury or sign of attempted suicide. But as the paramedics carried her out, they shuddered to muse that they smelt the delicate fragrance of daffodil that radiated in the air from a small scribbled and forgotten love letter.

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