The Meadow

The Meadow

A Story by aflorexil
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"The Meadow" is a nostalgic short story about a man who returns to a meadow after 24 years to relive memories of a time he spent with a woman he loved.

"

It had been twenty-four years since she'd last seen it, but the place looked the same. Her meadow. The sunflowers gleamed in the brilliant sun. The peonies: pink, white, and purple, danced in the breeze that blew gently in from the south. The chrysanthemums were all crowded together in one section of the meadow. They seemed unmoved since the last time she was here. Even the giant oak tree at the far end of the meadow still had the carvings of our initials upon it, clear and unweathered, as though it were drawn yesterday. I removed my shoes and left them in the shade of the trees. I took one cautious step into the sunlit meadow, determined not to disrupt the peaceful scene before me, and inhaled deeply.

Was I mistaken? Or did her scent still linger in the air? Vanilla with a hint of mint. I strolled into the center of the meadow and sat cross-legged in the grass, careful not to crush her flowers. At last, I allowed all the memories I'd been holding back for twenty-four years to wash over and suffocate me. I closed my eyes, and a slight smile played at the corner of my lips. I opened my eyes again and felt like I was in a different time. I looked over at the giant oak tree. I saw a younger version of myself with dark brown hair and auburn eyes, sporting a wrinkled shirt I hadn't bothered to iron in my haste to meet her. I was gazing into the eyes of the most beautiful girl in the world. All the flowers in the meadow seemed to reach in her direction, passing on the second-rate sun that hung above them for the ethereal member that sat in their midst. The wind caressed her golden-brown hair, sending wisps of it into the air. Her bright green eyes were clear, void of any secrets. We sat against the oak tree, only speaking out loud when necessary. Preferring to communicate with our eyes. It had been over an hour since she said her first words to me that afternoon.

Promise me something.” She spoke. Her voice was like melted caramel and honey.

Anything.” I rushed to get the words out.

She smiled and leaned back against the tree trunk, looking out and around at the meadow.

Promise me that you’ll remember this place.” She said.

I promise I'll never forget," I said this much too quickly, causing her to raise an eyebrow. I lifted a hand and laid it gently upon one of her hands. She looked down at our hands and placed her free one over mine. She leaned in, her face only inches from mine. The vanilla mint smell from her skin compelled me, and I leaned in. My lips brushed hers, but she pulled away an inch. The intensity in her eyes snapped me out of the compulsion.

I’m serious.

I laughed, released her hand, and cupped her cheeks with the palm of my hands.

So am I.

Even when I’m no longer around, will you come here?” She asked tentatively.

What do you mean?

In case something happens to me.

What would happen to you?

Horrible things happen to people all the time, you know.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at my bemused expression.

Let’s not think about anything horrible happening to you anytime soon." I pulled her into an embrace, and she laid her head down on my chest. I inhaled her vanilla-mint-infused hair and pressed my cheek against it.

That’s reality,” she mumbled against my chest. “I don’t want this place forgotten. We’re the only two who even know it’s here. And if we both disappear, so will this place.

I lifted my head and surveyed the meadow. Its beauty was like no other, but it didn't hold a flame to the woman in my arms. She loved the meadow with all her heart. She had been coming here since she was a child. She had stumbled upon it with her mother one spring morning and had never stopped visiting since. Her mom had passed away shortly afterward, however, and she returned here to remember her.

She never dared to bring someone else until she'd met me. I knew that for her sake, more than mine, I would keep this promise. Because she asked me to and because I loved her.

I promise,” I whispered into her hair.

I felt her smile against my chest.

I love you.” She whispered.

I tightened my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, and you're not going anywhere," I said as a matter of fact.

Another hour seemed to pass as we sat there, intertwined; the sun was beginning to sink on the horizon. She stirred when the sky turned a brilliant orange-red and looked up into my eyes.

Do you have something sharp?" She asked me pleasantly, as though it were the most mundane questions.

I reached into my pocket and handed her my pocket knife.

She took it and released herself from my arms. She faced the tree and began to carve what looked to be our initials into it.

I laughed, and she shot me a look of mock anger. "I know this looks childish, but trust me, there’s a reason for this.

She finished carving the letters and handed me the knife. She sat and observed her work while I watched her.

So you’ll remember me when you come here.” She said this in barely a whisper, clearly not intending for me to hear, but I caught every word.

...

 

I tore my eyes away from the oak tree and closed them immediately. Forcing myself to relive my time with her was as pleasant as it was painful.

I uncrossed my legs and laid down on my back, staring up at the blue and cloudless sky. I turned my head slightly, and there she was again, in another memory...

Her golden hair was sprawled out around her. It was a sight you'd only see in a painting. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling.

I watched her with bated breath. Awestruck, I asked myself how I’d been so lucky to be with her. I didn’t notice when she turned to look at me. I was too stunned to speak even when she pressed her fingertips to my cheek. I closed my eyes and breathed in her sweet smell.

What would you do if you knew the world was going to end tomorrow?” she asked suddenly.

Ah, how I missed her thoughtful questions.

I'd spend all the rest of the time with you, of course,” I said as though it were obvious.

She propped herself up with her elbow and eyed me quizzically.

Imagine I wasn’t around. Like I never existed.

I propped up on my own elbow and chuckled. “What are you getting at?

She frowned and playfully punched my elbow, causing me to fall back onto the grass. “I would probably want to spend the rest of my time here anyway.” She sighed and fell back onto the grass beside me. “If you weren’t around, I mean. There’s no better place to be.

She started humming to herself. A song I knew well. A piece she had gotten from her mother.

...

 

I jerked up from my supine position and noticed at once the wetness of my face. My tear-soaked face dripped onto a now tear-soaked shirt.

With my head in my hands, I began to sob. The sound of her humming echoed in my ears. The wind seemed to know the tune well as it ruffled the grass and leaves of the trees. The sound was coming from all sides.

I began rocking back and forth, fingers digging into my hair, threatening to rip up the roots.

Another memory made me stop short. I wiped my face on the dry end of my shirt and pulled a small golden ring from my pocket.

The ring was engraved with our initials and surrounded by miniature roses and leaves. I brought it up to my lips and kissed it. I turned around, and there we were once again. I was standing in the shade of the oak tree that bore our initials, waiting for her to arrive.

She emerged through the bushes on the other side of the meadow. My face broke out into a grin as soon as I saw her. She wore a black sundress that seemed to be printed with every type of flower in existence. Her hair was pinned up with a butterfly clip and out of her face for once, although the breeze threatened to release it. She held her shoes in her hand, something she always did to not harm any of the flowers. She looked around until she spotted me under the oak tree.

When she approached, she tossed her shoes aside and draped her arms around my neck. We stared into one another's eyes, again choosing not to speak verbally.

After a while, she sighed and looked down at my attire.

An ironed shirt and a tie? What’s the special occasion?

The ring in my pocket felt as though it weighed twelve tons.

Can’t someone wear an ironed shirt and a tie without it raising any questions?

I wrapped my arms around her waist as she laughed, throwing her head back. The sound of her laughter was as musical as her singing.

You have a point, but knowing you, you’re always in a rush.

She smoothed out the tie and dusted off the sleeve of my white button-down.

This looks like you took your time….

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she surveyed my poker face. I tucked a strand of hair that freed itself from the clip behind her ear.

My father told me you came by earlier, but he wouldn’t tell me why.” Her eyes were now narrowed to slits. She pulled me tighter against her and trapped me in her embrace. “What are you hiding?

I chuckled and kissed both of her eyelids. “Close your eyes.

She hesitated but closed them.

I released myself from her grip and stepped back an inch. I sank down on one knee and slipped the ring from my pocket. My hands were clammy with sweat, and twice I nearly dropped the ring into the tall, clumped grass near the tree trunk.

What are you doing?” She was practically vibrating with nervousness and excitement.

Hold on, keep your eyes closed.” She slapped her hands over her face for an extra layer of concealment.

I wiped my hands on my pants, smoothed my tie, and held up the ring in my left hand. I gulped loudly and said, “Open them.

Her eyes opened slowly. She took in my position on the ground for a split second and then took in the golden ring in my hand.

I heard her breathing hitch, and I rushed to get the words out.

I love you, and I know this isn't much,” I inclined my head toward the golden band in my hand. “But I want to spend the rest of my life with you, No matter how long that might be.

Tears welled up in her eyes, which threatened to spill over. I continued.

I asked your dad for his blessing, and after an awkward ten-minute silence which consisted of him sizing me up-

She laughed and clapped a hand over her mouth. The tears were now rolling down her cheeks.

He said yes, and so…."

Yes.”She whispered.

Yes?

Yes!

You will?

Of course!

You’ll marry me?”

Of course, I’ll marry you! I love you.

Before I could move, she got down on her knees and kissed me passionately. We fell back onto the grass, my head narrowly missing the tree trunk.

We laughed as she rolled off me, and I slipped the ring on her finger.

...

 

I got up and walked over to the oak tree, laying my hand on the bark. The tears stopped flowing as I stared at the carving in the tree, as I remembered the last conversation I had with her in the meadow twenty-four years ago.

 

Do you believe in the afterlife?” She asked one night.

We were camping in the meadow that night. The sky was lit with thousands of stars.

Her head was in my lap, and our hands were intertwined. Her ring glinted in the moonlight.

No, not really," I answered as honestly as possible and continued when she didn't speak.

Isn’t it just darkness forever? All consciousness gone?

She stirred in my lap and looked up at me. “I don't think so. I don't like to think my mother is just a void of nothing.

I ran a hand through her hair. “Do you believe in the afterlife?” I asked her.

She returned her attention back to the stars. “Yeah, why not?

I don't see the point, honestly,” I said. “When life ends, it just...ends. There’s not much past that.” I shrugged.

She laughed and looked up at me again. “If all people thought as you do, I shudder at the state our world would be in.

Har, har.

She rolled her eyes and began to hum her song again.

...

 

Twenty-four years it had been. Twenty-four long years, but it felt as though I last spoke to her yesterday. It was the meadow, I realized. This was her meadow; this was where she would always be. She was the oak tree, the flowers, the blades of grass. The constant wind carried her tune in the air. She had left her mark on me and the meadow forever. Although she was gone, she was not forgotten. She was remembered and that was all that mattered.

 

 

 

 

© 2023 aflorexil


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Added on February 15, 2023
Last Updated on February 15, 2023
Tags: short story, romance

Author

aflorexil
aflorexil

Greenacres, FL



About
My name is Ashley and I am a novice YA author. I started writing short stories in middle school and I hope to be write a novel someday. My genres include fiction, romance, fantasy, young adult, and ad.. more..