Blake’s POV
Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead. Some were crumbled with the weathering of centuries, some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most though, were ever grown and unkempt, for now even their mourners had joined them under the clay soil. An upon the hill a new grave had been dug to await its new occupant. The black hearse slowly wended it’s way down the central lane followed by a procession of black limousines.
I laid the bouquet of flower on the right side of my mom’s tombstone, where her name, birth and death dates are engraved forever. I sighed, as the pain still sinks into me like her death just happened yesterday. The memories and wounds are still fre
