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Rated: E · Prose · Friendship · #2315537
A note jotted down in a cemetery on a rainy afternoon
I took a left today past the black iron gate and onto the narrow trail. It wasn't intentional; I just did it. My little Honda climbed the sloping path past that same slanted pine at the edge of the half-oblong patch of lawn. I followed it to the fork and spun 'er around - just like we always did.

I did it twice, actually.

It was the second time I mustered the courage to approach you. I came upon you from behind, No way I could have seen your face. I spun around to meet you - and there you were. You were smiling just the way I remember. Except - younger.

I caught my reflection in the black stone upon which your picture is mounted. I've aged. I've aged so much. And you are exactly the same
                             And you always will be.
                                                           Twenty years later.

Life is a funny thing - quite unlike anything else.

And so now I've returned to the little Honda on the hill.

And I continue down that winding path, while you stay right where you are. And don't change one bit.

1989 - 2006
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