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She held the piece of folded paper in her hands, just like she did whenever she felt alone. Her hands rehearsed the routine, unfolding it upwards and then to the right. In perfect center alignment, the letters rested upon the emotionally heavy piece of history. Her fingers lingered along the words, stopping at the last encounter of the pen with the paper, she hoped that she would lift her hand and the ink would stain her cold fingers. Warming the tips, pulling her back to the past. She couldn’t bear to look, knowing that time passes but the words will stay as they were. Frozen in time.

I’ll be waiting…

She gave a great sigh and slowly began to close her eyes, folding the paper back as it was. That paper was all she had, the rose that accompanied it died a many years ago. She wondered if the emotions that represented the tangible objects still existed, or met the same fate of the rose; slowly wilting and surrendering to its destiny.

“Ma’am…”
She was startled by the sudden voice.
“Would you please fasten your seatbelt, we’re starting to descend.”