Simon entered the train station with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a hand-made sign in the other. In red, big, bold letters, the text spelled out a female name. Arielle. He looked up at the clock above the tunnel leading down to platform number four and then down at his wrist watch. The first one had just struck 4 o’clock while the latter was two minutes ahead.
Have you ever lost someone that was near and dear to you? We mourn different depending on the relationship we had with the deceased. Also, we all mourn differently because, well, we are different people. Some people need to be surrounded by other people during such times, while others isolate themselves from the world around them.
A throwback to one of my earlier CW pieces. A poem