Thanks to Miranda Kate for this week’s prompt
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I was going to tell her.
Years I’d been building up to this. All the times I almost said something, all the times I nearly kissed her, all those times I should’ve told her I’m in love with her smile, her laugh, that her eyes are the colour of heaven. It had all built up to this mundane Monday morning. I woke up and decided yes, I was going to tell her.
Maybe if I had gone straight there, things would’ve been different. But she was so special. She deserved a perfect moment. She deserved a lifetime of perfect moments. So once I’d made myself presentable, I headed down to the High Street to the little florists to buy her some roses. Everything was more beautiful than usual. The grey street, the uniform houses, the tired little shops all looked like they had been sprinkled with magic. Even the drizzle couldn’t get me down.
I rehearsed it in my head as I skipped into her street. She would open the door, see the flowers. That puzzled little smile would form but before she would be able to say anything, I’d tell her “I love you Zoë. I always have”, and we’d kiss. Not one of those everyday, standard kisses either. One of those all encompassing, wildfire kisses that leave you with tingly lips and make you dizzy. The kind of kiss that made violins play in your head and the rest of the world fade away. A perfect moment, to start a lifetime of perfect moments.
I glance up to smile at a bird, singing its heart out on the silver birch, and I see the blue flashing lights. My heart drops into the gutter with the roses. The ambulance is at her house. My head starts to spin. The sky opens with a single thunder crack, and the heavens pour out their tears. She has to be ok.
And then they bring out the trolley. I’m so dizzy. Her face is covered, but I know it’s her. The rest of the world fades away, but there are no violins.Follow Victoria on social media: