Today Luca brought Rose to his favorite place, it was a house, falling apart and abandoned, but he loved that there were plants growing on the roof and nests in the rafters. She walked over to the porch and sat on the steps.
She asked, "What do you think?"
He answered, "About what?"
"Dying."
He shrugged. "It's supposed to happen, its natural and expected."
"But what about the people who couldn't be here anymore?"
"I don't know, I wish those didn't happen but I can't prevent them."
"What if I was gone tomorrow? What if I'm dead the next time you see me, lying in a coffin with stiff clothes and pale skin?"
"I think that would kill part of me."
"How much?"
"Just enough that I could keep moving on but a little part of me would be stuck with you."
"Interesting. You don't seem to believe I would die tomorrow."
"Thats because you won't, at least not yet."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"I'm not sure yet."
When they left there were four little words carved where Rose couldn't see them.
I will miss you.
YOU ARE READING
Delicate and Gone
Short StoryShe saw him in radiant shades, sharp edges and bright lights. He saw her as temporary, a second in an hour, small smiles, and different questions. They both knew it was fleeting, everything was.
