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Soul by steve

She told me never to open my mouth, never to talk. She said I am nothing, no one, and not even a mere object. But I did, I gave my self an excuse to talk, as I bulleted down Quincy Lane, and ran into the cemetery on North Boulevard. I walked over to the tombstone that represented what ever life I had. What ever excuse I had to be a happy person. For the next hour, my teardrops fell on the stone. And quietly, under my breath, I read the words engraved in the stone.

IN REMEMBRANCE OF TOM E. RETHEANGS

1963-2007

I thought in my brain, in my head. How could this happen just how? I took a deep breath and stood up. I hesitated and walked back home. To the remembrance of my soul.

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Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.

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