Lark&Sky

'Tell me about her.'

'Well, I loved her.

all of her. 

I loved the ring she wore on her index finger,' he said. 'She never took it off.

I loved the way she'd affirm me by placing her hand on mine.

I loved the smell of her, the softness of her voice.' He looked outside.

The winter had come, and the green of outdoors was now white, and cold, and frozen. There was silence, and steam rose from his cup.

'I cared for her, for a very long time, and I know she loved me too. None of it was a waste.

I loved the songs she hummed. she hummed the same one every time she did the dishes. 

I loved her handwriting. Little things, I loved them all.' 

'What do you miss the most, if you don't mind?'

He thought for a moment,

'well, I miss her kindness.

The world is cruel, i'm sure you know it, and when she died.. it got worse.'

'That's sweet.' 

'I'm not sure about sweet, but it's true.'

'I want someone to feel that way about me.' She smiled painfully.

He didn't know what to say. It was silent again. They sipped their coffees in unison, and thought about love and the abstractness of it, and the mystery.