Ficly

Death

I dreamt about this day. The beauty in it was the simplicity. A last day on Earth, feeling free and healthy… No one would know. Everybody would treat me right, the way they do everyday.
“Want to take a walk today?”
And of course he’d agree. He was the definition of a hermit, but everytime I got the chance, I’d drag him out and let him crack a smile.
The leaves were falling today, orange and purple and red falling. It fell like all the love in my heart.
And he wouldn’t do this everyday, but today he felt something… he took hold of my hand. It was a sweet hold and the air smelled like apples.
We saw a movie. We ended up back at his house, with the red light of the evening shining through the windows. We sang songs about love, and dreams, and ecstasy.
When night fell, I felt all the time run out. I didn’t need another day, though. It had been a perfect, quiet, beautiful day.
I collapsed on his couch and listened to him play the piano and sing me to sleep.
And I didn’t wake up.

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