I am just a girl who loves reading and talking about books
It was a dark and grey afternoon. The clouds were heavy and the rains threatened to fall at any time. It was quiet. No children playing. No laughter. Nothing. There was a stillness in the air that weighed down on everyone.
I walked past a freshly dug grave. The flowers were still there, standing alone, the only living things in the area. ” Truphena Maria, daughter, mother and friend”. The headstone had no other details. I liked knowing the dates of birth and death so that I could calculate the age at which the person died. I thought of the children as angels, the young adults as the people whose lives were cut short and the old people…well, it’s about time I guess. When someone dies at the age of 80 they have already lived their whole life; what else is there to see after 80?
Read the rest of the story here: http://www.shortstoriesclub.com/2015/05/a-toast-to-moses.html