Fiction + let = ficlet. An attempt.
—
I stared at the stainless steel doorknob. It was your tiny hand that last held the silver and gray ball of the wooden portal.
Off to Broadway you were, to chase dreams larger than dreams I have ever imagined.
I grasped the doorknob, gave it a twist and pulled the door open.
You were still there, around only 6 feet away. The golden layers of the sun were playing with the red-white petals of your autumn dress.
You didn’t catch me staring. You were looking away, towards the sun, slowly walking, humming, singing.
Who can say if I have been changed for the better?
Because I knew you,
I have been changed, for good.
I never knew if you were smiling, or if you were crying or whatever. All I knew is that you were singing, and walking away.
Fading away.
Changing.
For the better?
Yes. For the better.
For good?
December 31, 2007.
