Lola

The moon stared down at him like an angel in the sky. It was a frosty morning and the road was icy, Bob went to the same bench he had always done for years with his loved one, Patricia. He finally reached his resting spot- a bench in the town centre, oh he had loved Patricia she was a wonderful wife to him. She made him smile every day. At that moment when he sat down in his bench full of lovely memories, he found a rose tied to the bottom of the seat suddenly it all came flooding back to him.... 

He remembered that day when he was about 20 and he had hurt himself so he sat down on a bench. A beautiful face glanced over at him and he knew at that moment she was the one, the one who he would spend his whole life with. Immediately, he gazed back out of his dream and heard ‘Oh are you alright?’ he realised that it was the girl saying it to him! Oh he felt so cared for, at that moment when he had cleaned himself up of his cuts and grazes he asked her a question. A question that could change his life, ‘will you go out with me Patricia’.  ‘YES,’ she exclaimed. They chatted for a bit and he had learnt that her name in French is another word for rose, and from that day onwards he had always got her roses even at their wedding, all of the brides had them! 

He gazed back out from his flashback oh how he had loved seeing her face every day, now he just sat there with no hope for that he could never speak to her. But there is always a way he thought, that was Patricia’s favourite saying. It would always stay in his heart. Sadness filled his eyes. He could never find someone like her. Suddenly, he heard her calling, but where was it coming from.... 

Rufus

The old man sat deep in thought, surrounded by a blanket of darkness. He did not have a clue on what was going on around him but instead was in his own world, doing his own thing... 

He remembered that beautiful, joyful ice-skating rink that him and his wife used to visit around Christmas time and skate for hours and hours. The man was holding a now battered old rose which, -before the passing of his wife- used to be a brilliant, vibrant red rose that him and his wife kept in their old house. He then remembered the kind lady who went round giving the homeless big mugs of hot chocolate to keep them warm throughout the freezing winter season, and that, brought a tear to his eye. 

His thoughts came back to the present day as he tightly held his rose. Those tears in his eyes were now rolling down his cheek as he looked up to the sky and said a little prayer hoping, begging for this former winter wonderland to return. 

Reuben

It was a cold, dark night when the only light was from a dim, sad street lamp. As the old man sat on the bench he pondered whether or not he should get up and wander around or he should stay on the frost coated bench. The man did not know that he could see his own breath nor did he acknowledge about the ominous mist of which surrounded him nor did he care about either. He seemed too fixated on the beautiful flower he was holding. Despite it being winter, the flower still seemed to be blooming. It shone more brightly because it was against the grey, baron wasteland of which it was sat. It looked as if the man was hoping for something, something amazing to strike but nothing moved. The man held tightly to the flower’s stalk and stared at it. He was hoping for something, but no one knew what or why he was hoping. Some things are better left to find by surprise than look for without hope... 

Scarlett

As the dark settled around him, monuments of majestic snow trickled on his obsolete cloak as he perched miserably on a wooden bench. Desperately, he reached to his pocket and pulled out a petite, intricate rose and stared longingly into it’s  destined petals and gazed… 

All of a sudden this old man, Paul, wasn’t on his bench anymore, yet he was sitting on his bed five years ago. To his surprise, his loved one, Betsy walked into the room and asked him something he hasn’t heard in years, “How is the weather up there?”  

Suddenly, his face turned white, his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped.  

“Am I a killer clown or something, whats the matter with you?” Betsy chuckled and sat herself next to Paul. As he stared lovingly into his wife’s eyes, tears started to swell in his eyes. “Betsy, is that really you?” He queried  

“Of course it is darling!”  

In a blink of an eye, Paul was stumbling of his bed, and, instead of hitting the ground, he carried on falling until he reached a place where everything had turned black and white. The roses on the table has lost their colour and people started emerging out of nowhere, dressed in black.  

Deliberately, he reached out and a shovel appeared in his right hand. He glanced down to the floor, a dark boundless hole came into view and a coffin, with the exact same shape and scars from his wife’s, lied at the bottom of the hole. He closed his eyes…. 

Once again, he was perched back on his bench with the pink rose in his hands with tears falling down his face