I Love Writing. ‘The Rose’ by Patricia Amundsen

i love writing short stories, i love bello shire,

I was in meditation with a group of five. My mind had taken me into a beautiful circular garden about the size of a large roundabout filled with pale pink Roses. I was standing on the circumference feeling their beautiful aura when my sister’s Father-in-law came striding toward me. I was amazed for many reasons, firstly because in real life he was old, wore coke bottle glasses and shuffled along with a cane. Here he was youthful and vital and energetic bouncing along purposefully. Secondly, I hardly knew him, I had only seen him a few times at family gatherings, but once had recorded his presence with a drawing in my sketchbook, and I used to play with his grandchildren. I said matter of factly, ‘G’day Stan, what are you doing here? He answered with a confident smile, ‘Just passing through’. ‘Oh’, I said, ‘So you’re on your way, are you?’ ‘I am’, he answered, smiling as he handed me a stunning paper pink Rose about to bloom.

He then strode off like he was going to town, waving from a distance. I was totally mystified by this meeting so later that day I rang my sister and asked, ‘How is Stan?’ She replied, ‘Strange you should ask, he died this afternoon at 12 o’clock.’ Coincidentally or not, this was the time of his visitation to me. I related this story to his widow, telling her that the Rose he gave me was for her.

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