Tears may flow, but our flowers will still bloom and the sun will still shine for them and you. Please look to the future, walk on, live on and let the drums still sound. Find new colour in your writing my Spanish Eyes. Sell the piano, get a writing desk, but keep my love. You are not alone, that’s my message to you, it’s not goodbye, darling.
Flash Fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers photograph 21-01-2016. Photo credit and copyright Jan W Fields.