The rain hadn't stopped, it's melody becoming a background music for the room to tune into. Along with it was the subtle, barely audible sound of paper being opened from it's former shape. Strangely enough, it produced quite a sound in a room ever so quiet.
It didn't take long for the inside of the paper to show itself to her. It was a handwriting she knew ever so well and the contents were familiar as they always have been.
A dedication, a few stanzas, some rhymes, and lastly came the signature. It was a letter encasing a poem.
A letter that was never sent and a poem that was never read.
Her eyes skimmed it over, memories—however unwell— started flooding back mercilessly.
A smile, a hand, an embrace, warmth.
Real warmth.
YOU ARE READING
Heartbreak For One
Short StoryOh, what greater pain is there than to love someone and get heartbroken over them... Despite them never knowing. A short story of grief. One from personal events.
