Today, when he came to the park, he saw the rose. He looked around, but he didn't see anybody. He picked up the flower and sniffed at it, the sweet scent making him smile. He sat the rose beside him on the bench and started to play his guitar.
From behind the tree, she smiled.
Today, she didn't go up to tell him she was the one who left the rose for him, or why she did, but it was okay. She didn't know that her small gift made his day, but it was okay. He didn't know who left the flower on the bench for him to find, or that the person was right behind the tree with heart-shaped leaves, but it was okay.
He got up and left, smiling, the rose tucked in the hole of his guitar. She too, left, smiling.
But she didn't see the red rose he left for her.
YOU ARE READING
Spring
Short StoryIn which he sings and plays his guitar everyday without knowing of the lost girl who sits behind a tree, listening to his music.
