"Hello,” I say as I enter this once lush garden.

The memories of this place are.. bittersweet, at best. They spill and over flow like a molten volcano, filling my mind and overwhelming me as I enter the familiar, yet somehow foreign place. The once bright liveliness that this place was, is gone, it left with my grandfather.

The only thing I have left of him is this rotting garden, the bittersweet memories he left behind, and his ring.

The ring was left to me in his will, the last and possibly most special present he gave to me. The gold has dulled a little, and the pink from the rose design has peeled off in places, but nonetheless it remains gorgeous.

‘It would seem nothing stays the same’, I muse bitterly to myself as I walk. I shake my head, snapping myself from the unpleasant train of thought. ‘Best not to ponder on long forgotten woes.’ I smile.