Solman fought his way against the wind. Amid the chaotic noises of the road, he had one thing on his mind: Flowers. Despite the chilling air, he was determined to get a handful of flowers for Aradia. She loved flowers.
As he walked on the sidewalk, he stumbled upon a rock. Solman remembered the times he and Aradia would play together when they were younger. They would tackle each other in the ditch during the day and, at night, lie beneath the stars. After shaking his head to try to forget the memory, he went around the small stone and continued walking.
Solman continued on down the hill and walked alongside the creek, which was near the swamp. Swamp. He could hear the crickets chirping and the frogs croaking. Aradia loved frogs. Solman went over the bridge, which was nestled between the trees, and into the field.
From the field, he picked a handful of wildflowers. He counted all the flowers he had picked during the walk. Thirteen. The cursed number. Solman sighed and made his way into the woods.
Ducking under a branch, Solman trudged down the hill, toward the cemetery. He went past the bench, ignoring it, and strayed beside the path. He idled for a moment before looking up and sighing. Outside the cemetery, his feelings were overwhelming. But inside the gates, the same problem faced him.
"Jutht thuck it up…" Darn. He hated his lisp. But he remembered Aradia loved it. She loved everything, it seemed like. And now she was dead.
Solman fought back tears as he felt his eyes welling up. He stepped inside the small cemetery and gently placed the flowers on Aradia's grave. He remembered the same exact day a year earlier.
The last day he ever saw her.
Um so yeah.
I wrote this for class at school. We had to write a short story/paragraph with at least 20 prepositional phrases. Of course, it being me, this was the first thing that came to mind...I might get sent to counselling for this.
I hope you "enjoy" it...