I remember how the wind comb your long black hair as we climb our favourite hill. I remember how your eyes brighten up as I give you wild flowers— your happy pills.
I remember our favourite tree. It stood firm and proud. While our young love’s too mute to be loud. I remember our spot. I’d lean my back against the wooden bark. You’d lay your head on my soft lap. You’d look up and seek my eyes. I’d stare back and realize— words aren’t needed, our singing eyes are enough.
I remember them all while you forgot them all.
Word count: 100
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Photo credit: Sunday Photo Fiction
Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.