The SPF Challenge. 9/6/19. THE BENCH.
As she looked out across the dreary courtyard at the bench they once shared together on brighter days, tears filled her eyes and fell in puddles around her feet; much like the rain outside.
‘Our Spot.’ She sobbed, ‘We were supposed to be forever!’
They had their first break-up and make-up on that bench, shouted at squirrels and laughed, oh how they had laughed, all on that bench. But now it sat empty; even the squirrels avoided it. The bench sang of happier times, but she could no longer look at it; it hurt too much.
She collapsed in a heap on the floor under the window and sobbed some more. Holding tightly to the urn, the only thing she had left of him now.
‘We were supposed to be forever!’ she whispered at the red-brown, plastic jar that had been presented to her after the funeral; complete with a sticky label and his name. Tribute to just how little anyone but her thought of him. A cheap plastic jar embodying the cheapness of life itself.
‘If our souls can’t be together in this life, I will wait for all eternity until we can be together again. I Love You.’