Love & Gamble

Twine

Rosa Giovenesi's P. O. V

Wind brushes over the apples of my cheeks and the bridge of my nose as I shrink back into my own embrace. My boots crunch and crackle underneath the pile of scattered dead leaves as I put one foot in front of the other. The weather forecast was all wrong, but I don't hate it. It almost feels fitting. As if the skies above are humouring me and letting me have this day to myself, theatrics and all.

Tightening my grasp on the object in my hand, I keep my head bowed, choosing to focus on the cement grey of the path that creates a foot walk on either side of the trimmed grass rather than on the heavens above. I don't need to look at it to know, to envision the sullen inclement weather that awaits me. The clouds overhead are swollen and sullen, promising a tempest to come and leave everything drenched in its wake. I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly as fresh smells permeate through the air.

If the overcast clouds weren't a sign, the thick smell of damp soil confirms any and every suspicion.

It's as if every muscle in my body has memorised the path to the point I could walk here even with no memory of the place. Taking a few more steps and diverting off of the path a little, I come to a final stop as I stare down at the sight before me. A swell of emotions threatens to overtake my senses, but a firm shake of my head keeps me grounded. I bend down and plant my jean clad knees on the floor, the damp grass soaking into the rather thin fabric and staining the material with green and sepia.

Tentatively, my hand reaches out and clears the few specks of dust on the dark granite stone. Cool the touch and sending shivers down my spine. My fingers dip down into the rough engravings, tracing over each letter as they spell out the word that weighs me down like an anchor. The word that crosses my mind each and every fleeting moment first with sorrow, then regret and finally an unsettling angry emotion that roils around within me, unable to lift the burden off of my shoulders.

Hanging my head low, I lean forward till my forehead touches smooth and numbing stone. I take in a few deep breaths to calm myself and keep my head steady.

"I'm sorry for not visiting you sooner, mother." University has kept me busy but I've graduated now. I'm following in your footsteps." I pause to let out a hollow laugh, tucking a dark strand of hair behind my ear.

"I came to apologise. I'll be gone for a short while. I can already hear you chewing me out for leaving you like this, but don't worry. I'll be back." A clap of thunder overhead makes me jump and I nearly let out a loud swear word but keep it in at the last moment.

Even in death, I know my mother won't hesitate to find some way so she can slap me upside the head. I won't even be surprised if she scared me on purpose a second ago. A berating at leaving her alone and without flowers to decorate her final resting place.

"You're oddly quiet. Bad sense of humour, I know." I continue after a beat. Sighing, I slump down some more. My attention turning to the object in my hand as I place it down on the lush grass underneath me. "I brought your favourite. A Chrysanthemum. Cherish it and I'll come back with a lot more next time."

I gently caress the silken white petals, smooth to the touch and reminding me of just how delicate they are. One wrong move and the stem could lay bare with the lack of blossoms. A tapered stalk slightly imperfect follows the flows of my fingertips next, the slight nobs something my mother favoured. A funny looking stem was always perfection in her eyes.

Standing up, I ignore the clicking and cracking of my joints, and brush non existent dust off of my mother's gravestone. Anything to prolong my time here. Taking in one last deep breath, the first drop of rain hits me square on the nose, which causes me to nod.