Turning to the house, I pulled myself from the reeking river mud and climbed the slippery bank, ready to seek the comfort of my bed.

But I walked instead to where he was buried.

Looking down, I saw the grave, the slightly raised mound of dirt.

It was still there, unchanged from the previous night.

He was still there, unchanged, too.

The tears fell, and I went inside.


About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)