They were left there to wither in the cold and wet like a metaphor for their love. Once fresh and beautiful, now dark and wilted. Once vibrant and lush, now dry and dead. It was just such a fitting representation of all that had gone wrong.
He'd given them to her on their second anniversary, a day that will be forever etched in his mind. She was wearing the blue turtleneck sweater he'd bought for her on a whim. He'd seen it in the store and could picture it on her instantly, knowing how well it would bring out the deep azure in her eyes.
They were meeting for a picnic lunch in the park- he'd pulled out all the stops as he knew that it had to be special. It's not every day you propose. The wine, the freshly baked bread, the assortment of cheeses and meats, and of course the dozen roses.
As she walked to meet him, her smile grew and shone radiantly, as it always did. She was a beauty in every sense of the word. His heart leapt as she walked across the street to meet him. But then, the car. The car. It was going so fast. Too fast for that area. He dropped the roses as he ran to her.
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