The Flower

March 18, 2012
By Anonymous

The land was dark and evil where The Man lived. The Man was a very old man, and was in love with a woman. He lived in a house, deep in the woods where no one could find him. Shadows were everywhere, but the sun had not shone for many years. The Earth had seen The Destruction.

The Man only went outside on few occasions, such as: searching the land for any food, scanning the tree line for intruders, and lastly,…going on long, peaceful walks along the gravel road near his home. He would usually take his cane, and shuffle his feet up and down the road for an hour or two. The Man only walked at dawn. He would not dare to start his walk at dusk.

One day, The Man saw something unusual on one of his strolls. He saw a bright, red flower at the edge of the woods. His eyes were not as they use to be, but The Man could see the color of the flower. He looked both ways up the path, just to check, and went into the woods. It took a lot out of the old man to duck under thick branches, and step over fallen trees.

When he came to the flower, he dropped his cane, and knelt down. He smiled as he plucked the rose from out of the ground, and stared at it. It was nearly hypnotizing for some reason.

“You are beautiful. You actually remind me of a woman I know. I should give you to her. She will love you.” The Man said to the flower.

But The Man knew that the rose would whither away and die. So, he set out to do just as he had said. He grunted as he got back to his feet. The Man held onto the rose tightly in one hand, and had his cane in the other. He trudged back to the road, and went towards the house of The Woman.

The Man walked up an old, country hill. He still held on to the rose. The Man had not let go of it since he first picked it up. The Woman’s house was not far away. He had been there before, in the past. Like any other old man, after a long walk, he wanted to rest. He saw a tree stump close by, and decided to sit down on it. He had passed an apple tree when he first started his…quest, and picked the nicest apple from the tree. The Man was hungry.

Shots rang out from nowhere! Screams and shouts from multiple people. More shots echoed from a distance. The Man started to shake worse than he already was. His appetite left his body completely. He went on up the country hill, and didn’t dare to turn around. Holding onto the rose helped the old man to calm down. The shots came from Evil Men. He, The Man, went into the woods, and hid behind a tree. The Man did not want to be detected by anyone because everyone was evil.

A couple of hours went by, and nothing was happening. Then, he started to hear something, or…someone. A pair of Evil Men, with guns, raced up the hill and passed The Man. They did not see him behind the tree.

The Man let out a sigh of relief, and looked down at the flower in his hand. He had forgotten it was there. He smiled, and waited for a little while. Just in case any more Evil Men came by.

The Man was near the house of The Woman. He walked up the steps, and went into the house. He did not bother to knock on the door. He knew that no one would answer. He also knew that: the windows would be smashed, the shelves would be ransacked, and The Woman would be dead. He walked with his cane, through the house, and towards the back door. He wanted to go out into the backyard, and visit the grave of the woman he loved. He had buried her, respectfully, there.

He put the rose on the tombstone, and said, “I picked this rose because it reminded me of you. It would make you smile.”

The Man wept all the back to his own house in the woods. He shuffled his feet quickly because the sun was beginning to set. But he had some satisfaction in his heart. He was happy because he knew that he had something nice to put on The Woman’s grave.

The End

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