The sun went down, and the wind began to build, from a gentle rustle to harder gusts. Leaves began to blow off the thin, waving branches of the trees. Her own little tree was bent over from the hardy blasts of wind. Then, her window blew open unexpectedly, and the small stacks of papers on her desk blew everywhere in her room. She ran to close the flapping window. Dark, heavy clouds were building in the sky. Minutes later, a soft grey drizzle of rain started to fall. It was becoming a very cold night.
She carefully carried a novel covered with a dark brown leather case, and sat on her soft bed to read it. She has read it several times in her life, over and over again. After a few minutes, she changed her position, wanting to lay comfortably on her bed and let the novel rest on her chest. Her short grey hair rested on the pillow. She knew she would always love this novel forever. `
During their soft, gentle exchange, she promised to give the novel back to him. But she did not, through no fault of her own… only a short time later, at the age of only twenty, he moved on from this life to the next, when a drunk driver struck him as he was on his way to see her. With sorrow in her heart, she whispered “I borrowed this novel, Calvin, and… it’s too late to give it back to you. But I promise you, soon I’ll come to see you in heaven with all the love from your novel you’ve written.” And tears began to flow once again.