The Dozen Roses

He heard the footsteps behind him.
Time was flying – soaring and blowing in circles.
He checked the time on his phone – he was 5 minutes late. Tanya would be probably 20 minutes late so he was early.
He heard the sounds of the subway above him on the elevated platform and then saw the sparks falling onto the streets below him.
He was walking quickly, a dozen red roses under his arm and a derby cap upon his head.
“Tanya.” When he said her name to himself he felt the soft touch of her lips…upon his lips. Love can be that way – just a sense of her scent and he would find himself hurting. A nagging pull inside of him causing a fire in his gut…a flame that is doused only by the touch of her lips upon her lips, her hand inside his or the sight of her eyes looking into his….
He found himself across from the Franklin Hotel in a park, sitting on their bench, the one that was dedicated in memory of David and Diane by their loving children. He checked his phone for a message or a missed call. Nothing there.
He watched as children ran across the grass, dogs ran and played and the day came to an end.
Tanya…she said she would be on time now he is just wondering if she will ever show up. An hour and then a half…
His phone beeped – a text message.
“Sorry – I cannot do this anymore…goodbye.”
He stood up, lit a cigarette, left the roses on the bench and walked away.
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