Ablaze Spring 2024

rustle. That just makes my tears flow harder.

“You need to move on. I want you to move on,” she says, stepping forward. “Promise me you will. Please.” Only her auburn hair is clearly visible still. The rest of her is a blurry outline against the falling rain. A loud, pained sob escapes me as Autumn’s words reach my ears. “I p-promise, Autumn. I promise I’ll t-try for you. A-anything for y-y-you.” My words are swallowed by another sob, this one closer to a wail. Autumn’s figure fully fades away. It vanishes behind the wall of rain. My legs buckle as she fades away for the last time. I’ll never see her again. I’ll never see her look at me with eyes full of admiration and love. I’ll never hear her voice, her laugh. She’s gone, this time forever. The loose sensation of a hug wraps around me. This touch, unlike all the ones before it, is cold with a sense of finality. One last thing registers to my ears, almost lost to the symphony of my sobs and the rain. The whisper of Autumn’s voice one last time.

“I love you, Katrina. Goodbye.”

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