He sat under the tree, thinking about his Rose. It was spring and Rose loved spring. She loved sitting by the lake and admiring the delicate butterflies as they danced around the flowers, some camouflaging, some beautifying the flowers even more. As the sun rays descended on the lake water, it looked like diamonds were flickered into the lake to make the water appear ever more precious than before.
He sat there, wondering why isn’t Rose here. Where is she? She would never give up spring noons for anything in the world. He moved a little closer to the lake. He loved doing everything Rose ever taught him. Looking at their own reflections in the water, making funny faces, letting their bare feet under the water to feel the cool water run over their skin. She taught him to love. She had become his heroin.