Perhaps if I had not so tightly clutched the rose, its thorns would not have pierced my flesh so deeply.
* * *
The creeping vines finally reached the branch on where I sat. They touched my cheek and gently wiped my tears away. I realized there were two options left for me: Either I sit still and ignore the pain or gather enough courage and walk away. I sighed. I could not do either one.
“I’ll be okay.” I whispered softly in the dark. I hoped that could be true.
I looked around me. Every tree’s leaves droop. Every single bulaklak bowed on the ground. My sorrow permeates the stillness of...
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