Threads of sadness, woven in lilac, seen by a child.

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Her cheongsam

Pale lilac

Swayed in the closet

Flitted in the wind

One corner to the next

Too quick for the eye.

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Her sweet laugh

Echoes in the room

She was gone.

The sky cried

A missed call.

From her?

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“She’s passed,” one told,

“She’s left,” said another

She’d said she’d never leave.

Why can’t his key fit?

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I still comb the school

Where she’d fetch me

Wondering what I owe

And should

Let go.

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She’s gone.

Or never was

I still hear

The key

In

The lock.

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Please find a book of my horror microfiction, Echoes in the Dark, free for download here.