Nostalgia.

As I swept into the small, rusty cottage, I felt a sense of pain shoot through me. I slowly touched the rough table, the rusted sink, which god forbid, was still leaky. There was a picture frame above me. I closed my eyes before I could look at the man inside the picture. I sank to the floor. “Luz.” The name escaped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Tears welled up behind my eyes and, cripes, I cried, right there in that cottage.

“Florencia?” I wiped my eyes at his voice.

“Yes, Eric. I’m right… here,” I said, my voice cracking.

“Flor, you’re all right, aren’t you?” Eric murmured. He stood by my side. “It was ten years ago,” Eric sighed.

“But the moment is passing in my heart right now,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Eric.”

He sighed. “It’s ok. I understand if you can’t get over it…” A long pause. “I… I can’t either.” His voice was soft. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear or not. “He was my best friend,” Eric added.

In the wind I heard his name. Luz…