Microfictions: Little Lost Love Stories
False Haven
The porch with the little swing and the tree tulips was our beginning. It was the place you stood nervously as my father answered your knock. The one I waved from as you headed off for college. The porch we held my mom in while she cried after my dad passed. It was the place you got down on one knee and where you lifted me up, carrying me into our new house. It was where you stood yelling at me as you backed away to your car. The porch with the little swing and three tulips is our end.
Aftermath
My tears mix with the rain.
House with Porch Swing (UnSplash)
Author's Note: This was formed from listening to sad songs with rainy backgrounds on YouTube. I tried to foreshadow with the title of the first microfiction that this was not a happy love story. The title of my microfiction collection symbolizes lost love as in dissipated between two people rather than lost as in rediscovered. The second story is a look after their love is gone and really tries to paint a scene of them left devastated on the porch.
Hey Keana!
ReplyDeleteI completely skipped over the title, so reading the story was an unexpected turn. You did a great job at crafting the porch into a image of happiness, where everything that shaped the relationship took place. Flipping that over and turning it into the place where one of the worst memories was formed was devastating. The second story is a great way to follow-up as well. Not only because of the loss they experienced there, but because everyday they walk out their front door, they'll be reminded of it all over again.