Flash Fiction: The Photograph

Nadira Noviandita/180410150074

On the last day I saw her, we stood on the bridge looking at the only star above us. With her chin leaning on her hands, she closed her eyes as if she was feeling the breeze blowing her face.

“It’s rare. I haven’t seen stars in a long time.”

“Is it because of the light pollution?” I asked.

“But this is only a little town, Ken.”

I met her a week ago. It was the day after I moved to this town. I was walking to get some fresh air and saw her standing on this bridge looking at the sun as it goes down. She noticed I stared at her and smiled. She was wearing a little white dress and holding a white rose.

Her name is Isla. Short black hair, no bangs. Short and skinny like a little girl but we’re in the same age. We always meet at the same place. Located in the edge of a small town, not many people pass this bridge, but there is a small river under it that leads right to the sunset which makes it a nice place to just enjoy the scenery and it’s near my dorm.

We talked about many things. She said she likes everything about galaxies and everything in it. I told her I like to take photos of people. I once brought my camera on the last night I saw her and took a photo of her. She was beautiful, her eyes were black and starry under the street lights.

And then she’s gone. I don’t know where to find her because she left no trace. She once told me that she lives nearby but I don’t know where. I felt kind of upset that I wanted to light up a cigarette but chose to chew two gums at once instead.

I haven’t seen her again until three days later, when I was walking home after class passing the bridge as usual. I saw a girl riding a bicycle passing me. Various kinds of roses stuffed in its basket. One of the roses fell right in front of me. It was the white one. She stopped to pick it up.

“That’s a lot of roses. Where have you been?”

“My sister loves them. You can have this if you want. Wait, do I know you?” Asked the girl after picking up the white rose.

“Isla?”

“I’m Ella. Isla is my twin. You know her?”

“Yeah, we talked everyday since I moved here. Where is she now?”

“Come with me.”

She brought me to a cemetery four blocks away from the bridge. She put all the roses in front of a tombstone with something written on it.

Here lies Isla Sky Lee.

I saw the only photograph of her that I’ve ever taken again but there’s only an empty road under the street lights. She was that one and only star on that night. I lit up a cigarette again after years of chewing gums.

Word count: 500

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