Flowers of Despair

Flowers of Despair

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Aug 15, 2021
"Why did I name you Rose?" My mother asks me softly. "I dunno." I respond quickly. "Roses symbolize love and purity. Did you know that sweetie?" She then takes her hand and begins messaging my hair. "Mom. Don't go." I plead. "You know I have to." She responds quickly. And just like that, she's gone. And I wake up in my bed. And realize that all of that was just a dream. One very amazing dream.
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I can remember the fear of the tree falling in front of my car, after it was struck by lightning. I can remember how it felt, cold rain on a summer afternoon pounded on my skin as I stepped out of my car. I was headed home to my parents house after graduating college. I remember the security I felt when he showed up, and told me everything would be okay, and to stay in my car. I remember the rain stopping and him getting to work removing the tree. I remember when his gray eyes looked into my green ones, as he woke me up to tell me it was clear. I remember my heart never beat the same after him.

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