The Umbrella




The Umbrella

     The sun is about to set. I feel the warmness of the breeze and hear the sound of the waves which hit the rocks. I am sitting on one of the rocks which I wrote your name on it. It is my first time to come here after you have gone. Everything is sam… Wait. Everything is not the same. You are not here. So, everything is the same except you, the most important thing which makes this place meaningful. Then, the young come and sing songs as we used to do. They are singing our song. I sing along with them on the inside of me. I attempt to hold your smooth hands when our favourite part comes but I remember that I have not had you anymore. It starts raining. I have not had an umbrella, so little raindrops drop on me. This remembers me our first date. Do you remember that rainy day? I missed the bus and walked such a long way. I soaked when I arrived at the yellow café. After you saw me, you laughed at me and turned on your umbrella. You always had an umbrella. You were like an umbrella which save me from the dirty raindrops of the world. There is not any umbrella after you, and there will not.



I am sorry if it is a cliche subject. 

Comments

  1. What a tragic story. I like your descriptions.

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  2. It sounds sorrow man (you live in Rize)

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  3. Very interesting story. 🙂

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  4. I have always been a fan of your stories. This is an amazing story. Never give up on writing because you have an incredible imagination and you are great with words.

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