roses 1


Creative writing by TEARAWAY Maverick MORGAN PROBERT.


The day is cold, but calm. The rain has abated, but the cold hasn’t quite followed suit. I draw my thick coat tighter around me, folding up the collar to give myself some measure of protection from the cold afternoon air. Despite the cold, I feel at peace with the world. Contented. The roses that I clasp in my gloved hands are beautiful, full of life, and hopefully they will be good for her. She loved flowers. Every now and then, I meet the gaze of the people that pass me on the street. Their knowing smiles read that they know I am going to see someone very close to my heart.

It had been a long, long night, working that café. Demand for hot drinks – my speciality – was at an all-time low; all attention of the masses in attendance seemed to be directed towards the guy on stage and his acoustic guitar. He did play beautifully; briefly, I found myself wondering how a place like this could attract a performer of that calibre.

I was searching the crowds for a friend of mine, Mills, as I’d lost him in the crowds that had stormed the venue. I found myself yearning for company. I found him though, a moment later, but the girl that he was with… she fixated me. Never before had I seen a face that looked so perfect.

A customer had snapped me out of my fantasy, and I tended to his caffeine-fix with due professionalism. As I sent him away with a coffee in his hand, I was horrified to find out that I’d lost track of Mills and this new girl. Under the pretence of cleaning the used and retuned cups, I anxiously searched the crowds in the darkened room.

A moment later, a tap on my shoulder; it was Mills, materialising out of the gloom. He insisted that I make a few friends of his some quality coffees, and – ever eager to display coffee-making skill – I agreed, and then he brought his friends forward.

I was stunned. Among the friends, there she was. I couldn’t help but smile, and the girl returned it as I was introduced to them all – though it was only her that I saw. Her smile was divine.

I push back the sleeve of my coat, shivering as goose-bumps ripple up my arm, and I check my watch. Five minutes until I’m supposed to get to the park, where I will see her. The day is cold, but calm. I smile, realising how close I am to seeing her. I can make it to the park in a fraction of the time. All the more time to spend with her.

When I had walked into the kitchen, I saw her working away at a stack of vegetables. Her silky hair was tied back, her arms bare. She amazed me when she cooked; she got so engrossed that she wouldn’t hear me come in. She jumped as I grabbed her from behind, my arms around her waist, but then she laughed when I softly kissed her neck.

Setting down the knife by the chopped vegetables, she turned and kissed me back properly. As she pulled away, she smiled that divine smile that I love so dearly. With the tip of my thumb, I brushed the pendant that hung from around her neck – a simple locket, identical to the one that I wore – as I gazed into her soft and loving eyes. I felt the urge to say it again that day… but it didn’t feel like the right time.

Walking through the empty park, not a soul in sight. My hands shiver as if from nerves, but I know that there’s nothing to be nervous about. I spot the barren willow atop a nearby hill and, sighing, I set out towards it. It’s where I always see her. I’m holding the roses in both hands now; they look beautiful and delicate and full of life. I climb the easy slope towards the tree, and then I stop. The day is cold, but calm. Not a soul in sight.

Holding the roses in both hands, I look down at her gravestone.

Nobody was around when it had happened. The first to the scene found her lying, broken and bloodied, in the middle of the road. The street was written with the tell-tale signs of a hit-and-run. Nobody knew how it happened, or who had done it. Nobody would ever know. I was called shortly after the ambulance had collected her off the road. Dropping everything, I made for the hospital with all haste. I ran like I’d never run before. Bursting through the doors of the hospital, I was met with grim expressions and tears. She was gone. Mere minutes ago, she still clung to life. No more.

The day is cold, but calm. Not a soul in sight. The graveyard is empty. I place the roses under her name and take a step back. I anticipate tears. They don’t come. I will never see that divine smile. I will never see those soft and loving eyes. I will never feel her body against me with her hands in mine.

I never told her that I loved her. I thought there would be time, always looking for the right moment to say it… but she was taken from me.

Surrounded by the silence of those already dead, I feel empty.

The day is cold, but calm.


roses 2