He trudged up the hummock in painful slowness,
leaning on his shovel with each step. His body was old and weak. He reached the
spot and began to dig.
He remembered the day he buried the capsule here. He
had been young and truculent and looking for adventure. He found her instead.
She tempered him. She had made the decision easy, giving up his old self and
taking on human form forever. He had planned to die here with her.
He would have. Truly. But they took her from him too
early. He couldn’t protect her. He’d tried.
As she lay dying, in his moment of weakness, he told
her his plan. She disagreed, spoke of forgiveness.
He sat, panting and holding his box etched with
esoteric writing. It was heavier than he remembered – the weight of the
universe, the key to the rest of himself.
Could he do it?
oh, I like it!!!
ReplyDeleteTHANKS! I had fun writing it! It came to me while I was doing the laundry... :)
DeleteThe vocabulary words flow seamlessly. Beautifully done! (And yes, of course he can do it. I totally believe in her ability to have changed him.)
ReplyDeleteYay! Thanks! His words are always so hard to fit into any normal sounding story! I'm glad the blended so well! :) (I am an eternal optimist...)
DeleteNicely done.
ReplyDeleteThank you! :)
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