Legend of Love

He was covered in red clay from head to toe. The pasture that had summoned him, was turning from green to lavender in the fading daylight as the coroner’s wagon vanished over the hill. Vincent collapsed and sobbed.
That morning started like most Sundays. The 39-year-old confirmed bachelor awoke early and walked into the morning, perfectly groomed, as the dew was just starting to lift. The mile walk to his favorite breakfast nook was uneventful. His cane made a click clack on the ancient cobblestone back street as the vendors began to line the rue leading toward his destination. Suddenly, he felt weak. His waxed mustache twitched and the hair on his neck felt static as his jet black derby shifted to one side.
Bewildered, he primped himself, as best he could without a full length mirror, and stepping more lively ahead.
“Vincent?”
An alluring feminine voice made him turn on his heels. Instead of a woman, there before him stood a vendor selling antiques. A rather nasty looking overweight bald man beckoned him with a wave.
Stepping up to the wagon, Vincent was drawn directly to a powder blue box of old postcards. By this time his ordinary stoic presence had uncharacteristically turned into a desperate one. Vincent rifled through the box and there he found HER.
Legend claims he became momentarily invisible as time stood still and there was no sound until he said her name.
“Camille”.
Beneath the chestnut tree he had suddenly stopped. A vivid vision had led him there moments after he had held the postcard. The authorities who had pursued him for a purloined postcard, left with Camille Dubois’ remains. A 25-year-old missing persons mystery ended beneath the tree in a mound of red clay.
Vincent, the confirmed bachelor, had experienced profound love and immeasurable loss before the Earth had made a single rotation.
Some say, he weeps there still.

Writing Prompt Wednesday