(miniflash story)

Under a sprawling oak tree, Borys sat on a bench and traced the initials that had been carved into the wooden plank a decade ago.

The park was quiet, with only the rustling of leaves and the sound of distant children’s laughter. On his lap was an old diary filled with stories from his own life. Each page told a story of love, adventure, and loss. He looked at the faded photo hidden inside-a young couple dancing on a jazz night. A tear rolled down his cheek as he closed the diary, his heart full of bittersweet memories.