Lilies For Jenny

• Finlay O'connell, Grade 9, St Clare's High School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

The old man sighed heavily, shattering the suffocating silence that enveloped the house. He looked at the grey walls, covered in splashes of abstract colour and wild brush-stokes on canvas, and reminisced on the days when their house had been like Jenny’s paintings.
She had always made sure that their house was full of life and colour, people always coming and going. But the house had remained drab and mournful ever since she had been admitted to hospital.
The man began his daily trek up the hill to see Jenny. His legs and back ached, and his joints groaned in bitter protest, but he didn’t stop until, finally, he reached his destination. He walked through the front gates, a bunch of delicate, snow-white lilies dangling from his hand.
“Hello, my love.” he said gently, as he seated himself next to where she lay.
“I brought you a surprise! Lilies! Same as always, I know, but they’re our favourites.”
Jenny said nothing. The old man sighed, for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. He gripped the lilies tightly in his hand.
The silence grew between, separating them with a wall. Keeping them apart. The sun began to drop below the horizon and still the old man held the lilies. The lilies for Jenny.
The old man stared at his feet, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. He looked up. He took a deep breath and wiped his nose.
“I know you want me to move on, to find someone else, but I can’t. You are the only woman I have ever and will ever love, Jenny. You are the same woman I fell in love with 30 years and nothing has changed that. I wake-up every day thinking that.”
Jenny said nothing.
A single tear made its way down the old man’s lined face, making a path through the wrinkles on his face and falling with a plop onto the grass.
“I miss you.” He whispered, staring in grief at the stone that marked where Jenny lay.
“I miss you.” He sobbed into his hands, the hands that still held the lilies for Jenny.
He looked down at them, “Every day I bring you lilies, the flowers from our wedding, and every-day I take them home with me again. I wish I could see you just once more so I could give them to you. I can’t leave them on a grave-stone. These lilies are for you, and only you, Jenny.”
“Oh, my love.” A soft voice whispered in his ear.
He looked up, and there she was. Standing there like she always had. He rubbed his eyes and stared at her in awe. She reached out her hand. He wept like a child as he handed her the flowers he had waited so long to deliver.
“I love you, Charlie.” She said as she took the lilies from his hand.