A Collection Of Thoughts

Flowers for Juliet

(short story)
I was early at the train station. The next train would arrive in an hour, so I had a heck of a lot of time to kill.

I sat on one of those green metal benches. A few minutes later, an old man sat down beside me. He's naybe in his late 50s.

"You wouldn't mind, would you, son?" He asked.

"No. Not at all, good sir." I replied.

He read the daily paper while I kept picking a lock that I carry around with me, it's a hobby of mine.

A few minutes later, he broke the tension.

"So..." He turned to the next page.

"Who's the lovely lady?" He kept reading.

"Pardon." I replied

"The flowers... I mean they're for a girl, right? If not so, who am I to judge?"

I smirked.

"Yes. It's for a girl and no, I'm not gay."

He chuckled.

"Ah... What's her name?" He folded the newspaper and set it aside.

I glanced at the flowers, A lovely bouquet of purple roses.

I turned to the oldman.

"Juliet... her name is Juliet."

He smiled.

"Beautiful name. I'm sure she's wonderful."

"She... she's fantastic." I hid the lock and put my hands in the pocket of my hoodie.

"...The train will be arriving shortly" said the station announcer.

Out of nowhere, the old man laughed.

"Coincidentally..." he pulled out a bouquet of purple rose from the shopping bag that he was carrying. "...my wife loves the same color of roses."

I smirked once more.

"Well, I'm sure she's fantastic too."

"Indeed."

We heard the train arriving.

The old man held out his hand for a handshake.

"Thompson Jacobs" he said.

I shook his hand.

"Isaac Marshlow. It was nice chatting with you Mr. Jacobs."

I stood up and took my bouquet waited behind the yellow line.

"Amanda... her name is Amanda." He said.

I turned and smiled at him.

He tipped his fedora.

The train stoped and opened it's doors. I went in.

I arrived at the town where Juliet lived. I took a cab to the park and strolled from there on.

By the time of 1:41 in the afternoon, I arrived at where I'm supposed to meet Juliet. I sat down on the grass.

I've set down the bouquet infront of her.

"Happy birthday,Juliet!"

I tried to be enthusiastic.

"I've missed you and I love you... always" I said.

A tear trickled down my cheek.

Tried to hold it back, but I can't.

I cried as I rubbed a slab of stone that contained the most painful words in my entire life.

The words:

"Here lies: Juliet Rose Morgan"

I stopped crying. I said my goodbyes and left.

I left it there.

There it was,

the flowers for Juliet.