Based on the picture found here.
David stood holding his umbrella and staring at the old footbridge, and let his mind wander back. It had been a day just like today when they’d first met here. There had been a light rain, but he’d barely noticed it as she emerged from the woods on the other side, her clothes soaked and water dripping from her hair as the summer storm abated.
He was seventeen and she sixteen, and their parents didn’t get along.
But David didn’t care about such things, as he watched her walk towards him, her eyes shining merrily in spite of the dim light. He remembered everything about that moment, as they embraced. She’d smelled so sweet, and there were little tremors running through her, whether from excitement or the cold he couldn’t tell.
He also remembered the last time they met. It had been raining that day too, and she’d been crying.
Her parents had caught her one night as she slipped out the back door to meet him, and she they had decided to move. He’d held her, not knowing what else to do.
And now, here he stood again, on the day of her funeral, holding the rose he’d brought to lay on her grave—the grave he hadn’t been allowed to visit.
Instead, he laid it on the footbridge, and only then did he allow himself to cry, his wails splitting the warm evening air.
Comments appreciated (This was a 10 minute writing exercise, so sue me).
