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Fiction love stories

Willow Haven

Page 2

She brought me here, to the Willow Haven, and gave me all I needed to heal, to become strong, including the endless love I was so desperately craving.

Ethan was a slightly different story, having wrecked just outside of town on his motorcycle, an acquaintance found his unconscious body lying in the ditch of the country road and immediately drove him to my aunt for care.

He had remained unconscious for several hours before waking at Willow Haven and his memory seemed to complete evade him as he jar bled in incoherent babble about trains and such.

We were just two of many roughed up, beat up and loved deprived occupants, and ranging from teenage ages to those in their golden years of life.  Some came, some went, but Ethan and I understood each other.

I knew he would leave soon, that wild streak so un-killable inside of him…and he did, those two months following his arrival; and though he promised to stay in touch, in my heart I knew he would not.  I knew him, how he was wired, how he was made.  He was man that lived on the breeze of his current vision, and I knew no longer seeing me would cause the vision of our friendship to fade.

I took the bar of soap from the ledge of the tub and slowly lathered it between my hands, watching as the suds poured over my fingers and into the steaming bath water surrounding me.  A smile came to my eyes as I remembered the last frame of his face when he had left…I was picking blackberries and he was handsome.

His blue eyes were intoxicating as he approached me from the field.  He took the berry bucket from my hands and held it, walking with me as the rich cascade of the golden sun set over us that evening.

(Continue to Page 3)

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