Footprints in the Snow
Flash Fiction by: LM Fields
She took great care with us; she always did. It wasn’t until that fateful day when the dark clouds rolled in with winter’s first kiss, turning the rain into biting, white blankets, suffocating her pretty little flowers, that death came knocking. We should have been all but forgotten, just as she had been by her family many years ago, but the angels were there. We saw them, we always did. They were there, plus one, that day. She left her body, left her chair, and carried our wrought iron home outside where she set it in the crunching snow to rest. She opened the rusty door and smiled. The others flew away, but I didn’t. I stayed with her– stayed and watched until she faded like her footprints in the snow.