By Raelani Lambert

The park is still, silent. The sakura trees sway in the breeze. How beautiful, the sakura looks, dancing in the wind. Beautiful. My sweet Ichika was beautiful. The most beautiful woman in Japan. When she smiled, she lit up the room. Her eyes shone for miles, and her hair fell perfectly without her trying. To compare the sakura to her, she was twice as beautiful as the pink flowers; and I have lost such beauty.

I absently walk along the stone path leading my way and come across a pool of water. I kneel down and run my hand through the liquid. The water is so clear and refreshing, but when I try to scoop it up into my hand, it slips away. Ichika. She is like this water. Clear and beautiful, but she slips away so easily. I lost her, she has slipped away from me.

I get up and keep walking, almost blindly. The path starts curving up into a bridge. Ichika was my bridge. She was my way, my passage over the water. The bridge ends, but there is no more stone path. Ichika was my bridge, my path, but I lost her. I lost my path. I lost my wife. What do I do now?

I close my eyes. The wind is blowing, gently, softly, ever so sweetly. There seems to be some sort of melody, a song, sung by the wind. I remember how much Ichika loved the wind. She would dance with it, and whisper it her secrets. I smile slightly. Slowly, I begin to perform the movements that she had rehearsed every day for as long as I can remember. My limbs move along with the wind, while my body twirls around the grassy clearing. I begin to speed up, along with the tempo of the wind’s song. Then the song begins to slow, becoming nothing more than a hum. I stop moving and open my eyes.

The wind blows again, brushing a small sakura flower from her tree. The flower drifts through the wind and lands in the palm of my hand. I stare at it. The small pink flower is so beautiful, and pure. It reminds me of Ichika. Ichika was a flower. My flower. My beautiful, clear, absent minded flower. Another gust of wind blows the sakura out of my hand. I long to jump up and grab her, but my mind says not to. She is already long gone. It hurts my heart to lose Ichika, but I will see her soon. I watch as the small flower drifts away and into the sky. I close my eyes and let out a breath. Goodbye Ichika, I think. I open my eyes and the flower is out of sight. I have let her go.


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