Rose Petal

It took Jim more than a half hour to arrive at his wife Kate’s grave. The flowers he brought were withered from the heat and drops of sweat dripped down the nape of his neck.

“Hi, Sweetie. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Traffic was unbearable. I brought you your favorite, yellow roses, but they are ruined from the heat. I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get anything right these days.”

Jim placed the roses against the gravestone, knelt, and quietly prayed.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

When Jim left, a rose petal dropped to the ground.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher