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by Blank
Rated: E · Fiction · Ghost · #2244930
What goes through a friend's mind as he gets a short visit.

I look around and take a deep sigh. The chilly breeze, the dying grass, the warm colors in the trees; they make me smile. Autumn has always been my favorite season, and as I stand here, waiting for someone, I smile. I have to find the joy in small things, nowadays anyway. I walk around a bit, thankful I'm not too cold. I don't dare venture too far from my spot though, I don't want to get lost. I step on a leaf, hoping for a satisfying crunch, but frown when it makes no sound. I head back to sit atop a small rock, just big enough for me.

I see someone coming over in the distance, must be him. As I see the figure approach, I feel the butterflies I usually do when he visits me. He so considerate: after all these years, he still brings me flowers! I lean back a little, let him place his gift, and just listen as he starts rambling. I love listening to him go on and on about the smallest things. I answer from time to time, but he seems so concentrated on his story that I don't think he notices. Seems like today's conversation is lighter, it's nice to see him smile for a change. Most days, he comes around to rant.

Sometimes, when it's really rough, he sheds a tear or two in front of me. He stops talking just long enough for me to give him a hug, and I like to think it helps calm his thoughts. He seems to be doing better, I can tell it gets a little bit easier every time he comes to visit me. I'm glad he comes to see me, his brother-from-another-mother, for advice on everyday things. It makes me feel needed, good.

However, as all things, our conversation eventually comes to an end. I know his goodbye is coming, but I want to enjoy the silence of his presence just a little longer, the gentle movement of his hair in the same breeze. It's his turn to take a sigh now as he glances towards to sun. It's twilight, yet again. He laughs, saying he stayed too long again. He says his goodbyes and turns around, and I almost follow him. I chuckle, I forgot again.

As twilight turns to dusk and dusk to night, I keep wishing I could follow him out of here. I'm not allowed though, probably never will.
After all, the dead aren't allowed to walk amongst the living.
W/C: 422
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2244930-A-friendly-visit