Bliss of heat fell on my face, looking over the vast field of wheat. The sun giving off rays so brilliant, yet it held nothing harmful to my squinting eyes. No, I saw him in the field. Saw who I wanted to see, the harsh lines protruding besides my eyes were from wanting. The brilliant golden hair told me I was right. I stood from the rusted frame of the old tractor. My arms longing to hold him as he ran closer.
The old ragged skirt I wore swayed in the wind, giving it new life. My cotton cream top ruffled and billowed as I cupped my hand to my forehead. It was him, and I couldn't hold back any longer. My bare feet hit the dirt, soon changing to the soft green grass, then the rough wheat stock as I neared him. His smile brilliant and welcoming, always there for me.
Then he stopped. I kept running, thinking he was simply waiting on me to embrace him. I drew closer and closer, and with each intake of blissful air, he fell faster and faster to the ground. My feet picked up and the air became ragged in my lungs. What was wrong. The wheat no longer held promise, but ripped and tor at my shirt and skirt, holding me back, forbidding me. Then, I came to him, My feet bloody and my shirt showing little tears, the fringe of my skirt abolished.
His body lay face down in the ground. His brown and cream clothes stained. Red. One hand outreaching to me, though his last breath came before I had. The bullet had pierced heart through his back. Blood....seeping and soaking his clothes. I shook with fury and looked around, screaming.
Falling to my knees, I pulled his body to me. His golden hair lay still, and his eyes...hollow. That smiled was twisted in pain, and his strong body lay limp on my lap. I clutched his his face, knelt to kiss him goodbye. As my lips pressed against his still warm ones, a piercing erupted in my heart. I placed a hand to my chest, thinking this was what heartbreak felt like. Until my eyes swam with color, and my veins caught on fire. I looked at my hand, red had found it's way there as well. I wrapped my weak arms around my love.....and gave a last breath.
Author notes
Dunno...felt like writting.
Sad.
Comments
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Wow! This piece is full of imagery and noise. One of the things you mustdo to become a good writer. Your discriptions allowed me the reader to face her reality and pain. The weat thatheld her back could be symoblic for a multitude of things. Her innocence,her parents,her community, and her dreams. The death of the one she loved could also be symbolic for a death of somthing she charished. Like she charished that man, but it could also mean somthing litteral as well. This is one of the masterpieces that I could find here on Ap.Though I suppose no one really knows about storywrite.com XP.
Three applause for the many discriptions and the ligering questions
~Audric beaumont

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Hehe, I have a lot of stories on there^^ an ols story i was writting, but then dropped.
Thanks for reading it!
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