I had met her last evening at our regular cafe. She was not her usual self. To the others in the group, she was just the same. But, I could see through her charade… the forced smile, the fake laughter and that vacant look in her eyes.Our eyes locked together a couple of times. I could read the unspoken plea but I let the moment pass.
Had I made an attempt to honour our friendship and let go of my ego, I would not be here with these rose petals in my hand, to honour her life in death.
This post is in response to Write Tribe Prompt # 4
Picture Courtesy : http://sarabbit.openphoto.net/gallery/