David couldn’t remember the first time he saw her ghost, but it was always in the same place: the cemetery behind the old church. Sarah looked just as he remembered. Her long, flowing blonde hair cascaded down over the white, gossamer dress she wore. He missed her more than words could express but seeing her appear each week gave him comfort.
Sarah Walters knelt before the grave. She never missed her weekly visits. Tears flowed as she placed the fresh flowers upon the ground. Through blurry eyes she read the words on the stone: David Walters – Beloved Husband – Born 1967. Died 2015.
Word Count: 100
[This is my entry into this weeks Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Use the photo prompt to create a short story in 100 words or less.]