A Brief Interlude

Trevor T. Faulkner

It comes at the most unlikely of times—a slow building wave of despair looming high above everything else, waiting to drown every inch of courage and self-control. No matter how much time has passed or how deep you've buried the memory, the wave crashes down and removes the gritty topsoil, exposing the painful loss that you thought you'd built a mountain atop. But as the waters recede and the tears dry, they leave behind a beautiful, fragile flower. In each petal you see a cherished memory as the familiar scent of old clothes rises in the stale air. A smile flakes the trails of salty tears away and the dirt begins to cover that brilliant blossom, and as the mountain forms again, this time you know that underneath the hardened earth is the most beautiful flower eyes have ever laid upon.

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