On and on, she pushed, into the quietness, into the night as darkness promises an abscence of colour, an abscence of warmth, an abscence of people. Stones and gravel crunched beneath, keeping a steady rhythm with her pants as she pushed harder. Tall trees stood like silent giants,invisible as they witness an old woman, frail and tiny pushing her wheelchair with all her might down the white snowy lane into the clearing.
And she found the place where he once laid. The year did no damage to the rose bushes that stood bare, laced snowy white in its branches as the wind played with the petals on the ground. She found solace in the place where she once grieved her loss, and peace. Where the world existed of him and her and no one else.
She gingerly edge herself off her wheelchair, stumbling into the rose petaled snow and closed her eyes and the world celebrating its yuletude is safely kept at bay for her as once again, he exist behind the darkness of her eyes.
