It was September, autumn. The footpaths painted in brilliant colours of reds and yellows, the sky blanketed in a luminous glow of white and blue. The wind carried a bitter-sweet smell, the scent almost warm as it tickled your nose.
I felt his hands embrace the curve of my back, holding me for the last time. He told me he would always love me, that I was his first love, what I never got to say, was I felt the same.
I will forever remember his touch, his gentle hand in mine, the feeling of his lips against my own. My euphoria.
But as it is told
euphoria is only transient
- as was he.
YOU ARE READING
Transient
Short Story"But as told My euphoria is only transient - as was he" We fall and then we crash, and we do it over and over again until the right person catches you. Before the crash we were perfect, we danced in the rain, we travelled together, we shared so man...
