Shantih Journal | Page 47

He lit one and threw it up

to the sky, a Fourth of July for

the dead. Fireworks crackling across

epitaphs, the doomed souls

waiting for Judgment Day. The

Heavens opened in response, pouring

down rain.

It was a long trudge back through

the moorland. Sister and brothers fast

asleep as he crawled back into bed

with muddy feet, grinning over her

astonishment of explosions in the sky.