Roses

Sat in the car, she stares at the front door. The yellow stone; the peeling blue paint on the frames. The familiar smell of roses wafts through the rolled down window. She sighs.

It had been nearly a year since she’d seen them last, her work taking priority and precedence over all of her friends. Reaching home, she barely had the energy to cook for herself, let alone to keep in contact. Yet, here she was.

Out of the blue, the hand written note had appeared on her floor. A birthday, with a date and a time and a place. And a second chance. She glanced to her side where lay the present she had brought. Slowly, she picked up the parcel, and locked the car behind her.

The knock at the door was faint, but the puppy did the rest. Yapping, the small fluffy dog bounced and scrabbled to see her. Her friend opened the door, practically unchanged for a year’s wear. The smile shared shed that distance.

It was a beautiful afternoon, with food and laughter. But most importantly, she relaxed, found her friends and for the first time in a long while, she was happy.