It’s Just a Burning Memory

One, two … one, two… romance hangs in the air like warm petals of blossom, cherry-coloured, soft and slow. You grasp your wife’s hand in yours, as you dance with her in the late evening, alongside your favourite song. A current of warmth effuses from your chest, and you smile, watching her lips curve in return. The world revolves around you two, and time seems to stop in the moment, as if it was mesmerized. You close your eyes and taste the sweetness in the air. It all seems too beautiful to be real, too perfect to be true … and indeed you feel like something is wrong, seriously wrong… perhaps it was the music, getting somewhat choppy; perhaps it was the air, suddenly turning bitter; perhaps it was the whiteness, the horrible white space, taking over the warm glow and blinding you awake. Your eyes slowly open, and you stare into nothingness, trying to think about what you just remembered, only to realise: it’s just a burning memory.

I got inspired by It’s Just a Burning Memory from Everywhere At The End of Time by The Caretaker.