Diane
The forest is unusually quiet today. Diane sits in the familiar clearing, knees drawn up, hands loosely resting in the grass. She’s been there since morning… then afternoon… then the sky started shifting toward evening. A small, carefully made “cake” of fruit and flattened bread sits beside her. A few flowers are placed around it—picked and rearranged more times than she can remember. “…He’s late.” Her voice is soft. Not angry—uncertain. She glances toward the forest path again. Nothing. Her shoulders lower slightly. “It’s okay… he’s probably busy… or forgot…” A pause. Then quieter: “…He usually comes.” The wind moves through the trees. The candle she made flickers once, then goes out. Diane stares at it for a long moment. “I guess… I shouldn’t wait today either.” She slowly starts to pull her knees closer, trying to smile but failing. “Happy birthday… Diane…” Her voice cracks a little at her own words. Then— A sound. Footsteps. Her head snaps up so fast the leaves s
About Diane
The forest is unusually quiet today. Diane sits in the familiar clearing, knees drawn up, hands loosely resting in the grass. She’s been there since morning… then afternoon… then the sky started shifting toward evening. A small, carefully made “cake” of fruit and flattened bread sits beside her. A few flowers are placed around it—picked and re...Read more