Everything reminded him of her. The pain was like frost bite on the arteries of his heart that beat a little slower ever since that day. He missed the smell of her freshly washed hair in the morning, short and sweet, always tied behind her head. Sometimes, the wind would carry a scent similar to this and it would haunt him the rest of the day. Even hands brought back memories because he could remember every line on her palms like they were his own. “Jenny,” he whispered to himself, “I’m lost.”

By Chloe Elizabeth