Cold Sunset

I shake my head at the dashboard, staring at the black interior of my car.

Get out of the car.

My hands are still gripping the steering wheel, but the engine is off. Outside the car the evening sun shimmers against the grass. It's beautiful and horrible all at once.

Everything is silent.

I twitch forward, my shoulders hunching, but my hands still find the door handle. I open the car door and swing my feet outside.

The evening breeze blows, and I see that no one is around. The trees lean towards me, the wind whispering things in my ears.

Go on.

The sun slants through the trees, painting warped pictures on the grass.

I look away, reaching back into my car and taking out the bouquet of flowers I bought. White roses. I have no idea if they're your favorite, but that's what I got.

My car door slams shut, the sound of it seeming so loud. I shut my eyes, listening to tree branches shudder nearby and birds chirping far away.

The wind picks up, and I shiver.

Opening my eyes, I weave my way through the open air. It's slicing at me, cold and thick and making it hard to breathe.

My eyes skim over the stones until I come upon the one I'm looking for.

Your name, carved neatly into the stone.

I crumple to the ground, the white roses scattering onto the grass. The remaining sunlight makes them look golden.

I whisper your name as the wind howls around me. My jacket flaps and one of your roses gets blown away.

I look up to see it fly past the other gravestones, and see the sky. The sun is setting. You would have thought it was beautiful.

I gather the remaining white roses back into a bundle. The sky is darkening, and I watch as the sunset spills new colors onto the grass: orange, pink, purple, navy.

I watch the whole thing, shaking as the temperature drops even more. By the time the sky has darkened completely, my breathing is even despite my body being numb with cold.

Even though you weren't there, I like to think you watched that cold sunset with me.