Flowers

Previously

…I would watch them sway in the breeze, their petals catching the sunlight, and for a fleeting moment, I would feel a ghost of her presence, a whisper of her spirit carried on the wind. But then, the wind would die down, the petals would fall, and the echo would fade, leaving me alone once more, with only the silence and the ever-present scent of fading flowers. The grief was a heavy cloak, woven from threads of love and loss, and I wore it every day, a somber testament to the woman who had painted my world in hues of purple, and then, so tragically, had faded into gray.