Safe From Harm


With the wind in her hair, she floats around until landing in the cemetery on the outskirts of town. Trudging through the knee-high wet grass, she lifts teddy onto her shoulders. Ain’t letting you get mucky, she says. It’s spooky and kooky, and she’d rather be somewhere warm, but she’s come to pay her respects. If you can’t find the time to do that, she thinks, then you’re a bad’un for sure. Walking among the gravestones, she tries reading what they say but it’s too dark, and some are so old and weathered the details of the dead have been eroded by the elements leaving them as blank as a fart. It’s sad. Makes her wish to never be dead, but such wishes are fanciful. The proof is all around. Passing through row after row of the monolithic stones, she breathes deeply as she nears the back of the lot, the place she’s come to spend a little time. Looks different at night. The land feels more sacred, somehow. Picking up a vase that’s fallen on its side, she places it back in position on a slab adorned with intricate patterns. Over to her left is the section where they bury the dead kids. She can see all the toys and ornaments. For a second she stops to collect herself. Life is sad, she thinks, but there’s nothing sadder than that. Taking small steps to match her small breaths, she comes to the stone that’s been on her mind these past few days. He’s always on her mind, yet just recently more so than ever. Taking teddy down from her shoulders, she unties the shoelace that binds the two of them together then sets him down. Patting him on the head, she knows he would approve. She can just see his face and the glint in those eyes. Those sharp and knowing eyes that had her figured out right from the start. Pulling her dress close to her legs, she sits down and runs her fingers over the carved letters of his name. She tries not to, but within seconds comes the tears. They come fast and they come hard, and they just won’t stop. Curling into a ball, she rests her face upon teddy’s outstretched feet, and although she’s hurting and the tears keep dripping from her face onto the ground below, she knows the two of them will keep her safe from harm.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

8 replies »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s