Story: Paper Flowers

His words burned. They seared. They scorched. I wish I knew what he had said.

We were in the field of paper flowers. Pink and purple origami petals all around our feet, swaying in the wind. The sky was dark, cloudy, and near the time the sun would fall. The flowers were so gentle, we didn't dare move. We just stood there, our hands together.

He leaned down. The sky didn't matter anymore. I could still see the flowers, because they were in front of me. His lips were to my ears, and he whispered. Something.

I'll never know what he said.

As he exhaled the end of his phrase against my neck, I watched the edge of a pink flower begin to singe and burn as if someone was holding a match up to it. The fire spread, from bloom to bloom, as he held my hand tighter. The sky was lighter now, illuminated by the burning field of paper flowers.

We stood in the middle and burned like the petals, as he clenched my hand.

I wish I knew what he had said.