I come to visit my best friend's grave with a dusty book in my hands.
My long gray hair flew in the soft wind and my wrinkled skin suddenly became covered with drops of salty tears.
"You said that you never leave a book unfinished for a maximum of 6 months..."
I stopped talking, remembering the times when we were at home together reading books all days and gossiping about people we hate, doing a normal girly stuff.
Then I looked back at that book.
The dust flew away as the wind passed by and I opened the book, finding the bookmark in the middle of the book and reading the last sentences of the page.
"...but it's been 35 years and you never got to see the ending of this story."
I said as I flipped to another page only to find it empty.
My voice cracked a sob as I closed the book.
My trembling hands touched the hard surface of the written words on the book cover.

My name's carved on it.

And my best friend never got to finish writing our story...

Our love story...




© EvaB