Photo Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall
He noticed the green growth, she the tombstone structures, sentinels in a seemingly empty field.
When had the fence gone up?
Each visit necessitated moving further from the markers. They began to dig, silently. There was no need for words; this was not the first, the third, nor the fifth visit.
Her eyes welled with tears as memories lit her brain like a kaleidoscope.
He swore to himself this was the last time.
They struggled the bundle over the troublesome fence. Carefully wrapped in a blanket, washed soft and worn smooth…it thudded into the grave. She knew they would return.
Categories: INTJ and INTP