Love out of stone

He sat there waiting for her. She said that she would come, she might be late, but she would definitely show up. After all she promised to love him forever.

He sat on the edge of his bench, his raven hair neatly combed in one side. The park was green and alive, cheerful children were playing on the side with a ball. And he sat there because she said she will come.

He was still there sitting on the bench, sweat going down his neck. Humidity was in the air and flower scents were all around him. The children were smoking and talking about love, all the while he was waiting for the love of his life. Because she promised she would come.

The rain wetted his long gray hair. And he waited there, in silence, stoically for her, while silence filled the park and the dead leaves filled the ground. She promised she would come.

Snow fell on his head as white as his hair but he did not care anymore. He was turning into stone that is what happens when you wait for so long. Wait for me, she had said, and waited he had.

Summer sunrays were brushing his cheek, but he could not feel the warmth of it. He had turned hard and cold, stone was his skin and marble his hair. She would come, he knew it deep inside. She had said she would be late. The children now were playing with their children, all the while he was waiting for her.


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