Five Card Story: What you got..

a Five Card Flickr story by Santiago created Sep 17 2019, 02:56:20 am. Create a new one!

flickr photo credits: (1) Serenae (2) bionicteaching (3) Yukon White Light (4) Serenae (5) bionicteaching

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I still see her face sometimes. I picture her with the sun in her eyes. It's always a memory from one of our walks. We'd just talk for hours wandering all over the city, ending up in god-knows-what neighbourhood, wondering if we'd make it home. It didn't matter the weather, she loved the snow. It seemed the more miserable the weather, the better her mood. Or maybe it's just how I see it looking back. Now. When my memories are clouded by loss, love, pain and time. It was summer when she got the news. I remember we ended up in this dive bar and were afraid to drink the questionable margaritas. That's when she told me. Our walks were never the same after that. Soon they stopped altogether. Then she did. I can't tell you how many times I think I catch her looking out a window or see her walking just around the corner. But then I look again and it's just her ghost. She's gone.

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<hr /><h2><a href="http://5card.cogdogblog.com/show.php?id=44688">Five Card Story: What you got..</a></h2>a <a href="http://5card.cogdogblog.com/show.php?suit=5card">Five Card Flickr</a> story created by Santiago
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9445648@N03/4216493926/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/2661/4216493926_6a22df3060_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9445648@N03/4216493926/" target="_blank">Serenae</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/29096601@N00/12336105424/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/3822/12336105424_8fa58f9460_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/29096601@N00/12336105424/" target="_blank">bionicteaching</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/87205228@N00/5435804800/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/4146/5435804800_4f618ca5e4_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/87205228@N00/5435804800/" target="_blank">Yukon White Light</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9445648@N03/7308567162/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/7240/7308567162_3ee16b6f72_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9445648@N03/7308567162/" target="_blank">Serenae</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/29096601@N00/14286753366/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/3749/14286753366_79c527dee8_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/29096601@N00/14286753366/" target="_blank">bionicteaching</a>
I still see her face sometimes. I picture her with the sun in her eyes. It's always a memory from one of our walks. We'd just talk for hours wandering all over the city, ending up in god-knows-what neighbourhood, wondering if we'd make it home. It didn't matter the weather, she loved the snow. It seemed the more miserable the weather, the better her mood. Or maybe it's just how I see it looking back. Now. When my memories are clouded by loss, love, pain and time. It was summer when she got the news. I remember we ended up in this dive bar and were afraid to drink the questionable margaritas. That's when she told me. Our walks were never the same after that. Soon they stopped altogether. Then she did. I can't tell you how many times I think I catch her looking out a window or see her walking just around the corner. But then I look again and it's just her ghost. She's gone.
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flickr photo credits: (1) Serenae (2) bionicteaching (3) Yukon White Light (4) Serenae (5) bionicteaching

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