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Midnight In Heaven
Midnight In Heaven
I was once a flower, a beautiful rose, snowy white with just a hint of blush at the very tips of my petals. I was the most beautiful rose on the bush. I remember well how I first came to be in her possession. I remember the way she smiled and her eyes brimmed over with tears as he handed me over to her on their wedding day. I remember her saying then how she had never seen a more beautiful rose. She pressed me between the pages of her memory book and I remember she would look at me at least once a week and it never failed that her eyes would grow shiny and you could see her recalling that day.
It came to be that time passed and she looked at me less and less and it was always with a wistful sigh. She would caress my petals and inhale me. I guess just to see if the scent of happier times still lingered after all this time.
Her eyes would still be shiny with tears but somehow they were different than the tears I remember. They were like a cold rain instead of a warm sweet shower. I could see, me being a rose and all and understanding the ways of things such as this that something beautiful was dying slowly.
One day she opened the book up to my page and took me out. That cold rain shower of tears was falling unabashedly as she caressed my faded petals. I could hear her whispering that the blush that made me so becoming when I first came to her now looked like dried blood. It was with sadness that I became aware of her fingers gently pulled my petals loose one by one until my bud was bare. She opened her hand and stared at what had been my crowning glory for so long. Then she closed her hand, crushing my petals that were now so fragile with age. It was then that I knew that something beautiful had died.