Archer drove his car to a place he had never been before. His confusion finally brought him to the cemetery where his parents were buried a few months ago. Archer got out of his car, his feet standing heavily on the spot as his eyes wandered over the dark brown, entirely green garden.
His lips smiled weakly, gazing wistfully at where his parents rested. He walked along the Green Cemetery road, which pilgrims deserted. He never imagined that he would find himself making a pilgrimage to the graves and thinking about life differently. Lately, however, he has often visited the graves of those closest to him.
Archer knelt in front of two graves that looked new compared to the others. He looked at the photos of his parents displayed there, and longing appeared in the dam of his eyes. “I should
