Flash Fiction: 4 Years

Clara Eclesia Fides/180410150002

It was early morning, Friday 8th April 2004. Danny walked steadily through the dry autumn wind, an empty flask inside his jacket, a pack of cigarette inside his pocket jeans, his black boots crushing the leaves that fell from the sad looking tree. The sky was grey that day, the wind blew his hair into a tangled mess, as he flicked his lighter with his left hand. His right hand was full with a bouquet of flowers he just bought from the florist across his apartment.

On that particular day he didn’t bring his car, it has become a tradition for him for years, no car for every 8th April, he waited for the train as he nervously twisting the metal on his ring finger, his mind wandered somewhere, and his eyes stared into the empty railway.

The blaring sound that came into the train station woke him up from his thought, his train has come. As he sat down inside the train he dug his phone from his pocket, scrolling through his contacts, his thumb stopped at her contact for a couple of minutes and just staring at the dotted numbers, but he made no move, he just sighed and put it back to his pocket, he couldn’t delete her number.

A woman and a man with their daughter sat in front of him, he was staring hard at them, swallowed a hard breathe, “it could’ve been us” he thought.

Flashbacks came running through his head, and he tried not to go there “think of the happy time Danny, don’t dwell on the past.” that seemed to be his mantra for the past few years but it was no use she had consumed his every thought, all he could see was her, her endearing smile, her soft curly locks, her soft skin glowing as the sun hit her.

People thought he was crazy, but it was just the pain that kept on creeping inside him even in the daylight, like a never ending nightmare.

Not long after, his train came to a stop, once he got off from the train, Danny kept walking, the road kept winding, his boots kept on crushing leaves after leaves, and his heart was getting colder as he got near.

He then made a right turn and opened the rusty gate, once inside he lit a cigarette and took careful steps,




When he arrived, he kneeled down, and said

“I called you last night, it went to your voicemail.”

The birds’ chirps seemed to be his only answer, he cried, all the pain that pent up inside him were turning into giant tears, Danny put the flowers he brought and threw his half finished cigarette away, he stood up, with a final glance he whispered softly, so soft he barely heard the words himself

“I’m sorry.” then left.

The next person came and wept

“In Loving Memory: A Daughter, A Sister, and A Wife

Natasha Ayu. Born: 08/08/1975 Died: 08/04/2000”

Word count: 499

Reference: –

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