I opened the parcel, starting by loosening the knotted string that lined and sealed the beautifully wrapped box, which turned out to be a copy of Looking for Alaska. But this wasn't the one I had given her, because this one had no hardcover jacket. It was simply gray leather binding with the words "Looking for Alaska" engraved on the front.
I began to open the book, and right under the dedications, in perfect scripture, was a note written by Rose. It read:
'My dearest,
I'm sorry for leaving you alone for two months. You are my everything. You watered my wilting tulips in the garden of our love. You shone light on the darkest days. But-' The letter stopped. There was nothing after that except for an arrow leading to another path of pink petals. I followed the trail in hopes of seeing my long-lost lover.
YOU ARE READING
Rose: A Short Story
RomanceThis is a short story I wrote. There's going to be a lot of comparisons. This is solely a piece of writing brought up by my own mind, oddly inspired by a rose I saw days ago. This does not reflect my real life, it was simply experimental. Enjoy!
