Flash Fiction – Missing
If you head to the woods you’d spot it immediately, there on the left hand side of the path that brushes past the briars. It’s only tiny, easily missed if you don’t know where to look, but once you see it you never forget.
You can only imagine the pain she felt when the rose was planted, the tears that were shed when she walked away, and the memories that rise unbidden when she visits.
The little tin plate says it all. ‘Much loved, always missed, hoping you’re OK. Love you always Mum xx’