“He sat on his porch smoking his pipe, rocking in his chair while taking in the sweet but stout flavor of his pipe. As the smoke bellowed from his beak he noticed her in the corner of his eye. Standing there calmly waiting for him to notice her. He slowly turned his head letting her know that he knew, then slowy turning his head back. Removing his worn down pipe from his beak, the last bit of smoke flowed out.
“I missed you.”
As she stepped off the path the smell of his pipe urged her to go on. She knew he would be on the porch, he always sat on the porch on days like this -would he even want me back?, did he he even realize I was gone?- She spotted the cabin. The cabin she had learned to love and the same one that drove her away. She could hear the rocking of his chair and the subtle draws from his pipe. Turning the corner. There he was just as she had imagined, time froze as she stood there waiting for him to notice her. Her stomach dropping as he slowly looked at her, then looked away. Hearing him say “I missed you” she no longer saw him, she only saw the tears.”
-anonymous
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