Short Story Friday: Closed Door & A Bouquet of Roses

The slamming of a door can symbolize many things, especially if it is accompanied by screaming and cursing. The slamming of a door can symbolize a lot when it is accompanied by a bouquet of beautiful yellow roses scattered all around the wet sidewalk. The heavy rain is draining the sentiments out of the roses from when they were first bought. The cursing continues, carrying away all the sweet words that were once said, breaking the calm once held between the two.

As silence takes over, you can feel everything breaking apart-- not rapidly as you would expect, but slowly, every movement well-thought. It seems as if you could touch their hearts and feel them being crushed with every motion. Their eyes say enough. One pair, red; maybe by crying with rage. The other of the pair can barely raise their view to face the redness in front.

When their slow motions join them as one, they do not dare to move at all,  as if they are afraid that even the gentlest of moves could tear apart, once and for all, what is left. Their eyes lock and the instant becomes eternal. Nothing else can interrupt the perfection that is suspended between the two. Memories flash between them and, for a moment, they are happy. Just for a moment. With a smile everything is broken. A smile that brought them back to the present and melted everything that happened minutes ago.

As they realize this, they silently try to decide which one should leave first. The one furthest to the door moves first, unhurriedly, trying to hold on to what once was. With a shy caress of the shoulder, one that looks painful, a back is turned and footsteps can be heard getting further, distant, until their sound blends into the sound of the rain.

The person outside the closed door is left with eyes shut hard, trying to regain some strength. Are those tears or drops of rain? Everything becomes significant once more. And taking what is left makes complete sense; kneeling down, grabbing the destroyed bouquet of yellow roses and embracing them, not being bothered by the one or two thorns that nudged the skin.

When every feeling has been savored, the moment is gone. The beautiful roses are left where they were once thrown, petals being swayed by the never-ending rain. The person disappears behind a closed door. A closed door can symbolize many things, especially if it is accompanied by a destroyed bouquet of beautiful yellow roses left on the ground.