He outlined her face in the photograph with his finger.
He traced the curves of her cheek, of her lips.
She was smiling in the picture. She was happy.
He threw the picture down, unable to bear it anyway.
He loved her. He had always loved her. And he never knew if she loved him.
She was gone forever.
He picked up the photo and compared it to the picture of her in his mind.
A bright smile and laughing eyes contrasted with a pale, still visage.
So happy. And then - so silent. So white.
He had always loved her.
The End
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