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Irene

Her perfume still lingered in the passenger seat. Tears fell on his wrinkled skin and wet his shirt near the collar. John looked to his right. Nothing. He hadn't expected her to be sitting there, laughing and unfolding the map, which always got them lost but was still preferable over a GPS. His vision was blurred with tears as he turned the wheel to the left. The old truck slid and the wheels twisted as they attempted to find traction on the ice. They caught as he pulled into the parking spot. He returned minutes later with a single daisy. His heart physically hurt looking at it. He could smell the sweet aroma of her garden which held more colors of daisies than he had ever known existed. He remembered her smile as he knelt down and attempted to help her garden, the feeling of her soft, gray, hair as he pushed a few unruly stands away from her aged face to turn her head towards him. Her beauty had faded slowly away over the years, but a large amount of it still remained. His head snapped up from the daisy to find himself still sitting at the store. He quickly started up the car and drove swiftly. Bumping along the one-way street, John's mind was elsewhere when the two small, circular lights appeared in front of him. By the time he realized that it was another car, he was about 10 feet away. He didn't try to turn the wheel or avoid the car. He went peacefully, whispering, "Irene." as the intoxicated teens climbed out of their car and tried to shake the old man awake.

Story by:

Taylor Davis

23 January 2015