Every year, he marvelled at the magnificence that bloomed around the bridge in that very spot. Despite the devastation they had witnessed, despite the acid anger that had railed upon them a decade ago, the bushes flowered as faithfully as he held his yearly vigil. Perhaps they sensed his presence.
© Nadia Brown, 2016
This is part of Sonya’s 3 Lines Tales – 100 words or less inspired by a weekly photo prompt!