Category : Stories

Sub Category : Romance

She walked out towards the water.  It seemed to call her, with its gentle waves.  She grasped the stone she always kept in her pocket.  Her stone meant so much to her, so, so much.  It was the last thing he gave her.  She remembers it so clearly.
It was a warmer August night, the kinds that are only bearable because of the light breeze.  He stood out on the road, yelling up at her open window.  He stopped, picked up a rock, and tossed it towards her, jokingly.  He was in the midst of his contagious laughter when the car hit him.  The car hadn't had his headlights on, hadn't seen him in the dark.  
She was still holding that stone, facing the water, facing the breeze.  Suddenly and swiftly, she tossed the stone into the water.  It sank quickly.  She didn't throw it out of anger or despair.  She needed to move on.  Not to forget him, but to stop being sad when she thought of him.  She wanted to remember the happy things, and to be glad that she had the chance to know him, to love him.  She wanted to be happy and knew that he, too, would've wanted her to be happy.