Introduction
Today I saw a fallen cross. I thought I would write a short story Inspired by it.
A Fallen Cross
When this cross was erected it was to remember someone who had left this world. They would be remembered forever, their name and achievements carved in stone and placed on a cross.
People would walk past the stone monument and read about the person who had gone, their remains beneath the soil and scattered to the wind.
Even stone needs care and tending, but year after year the wind, rain, frost and snow took its toll. Everyone thought it would last forever but a storm came and finally, the stone cross gave up the ghost and fell towards the grass and a final resting place.
No one now would read the words, to remember them, this was the end of their forever.
This was a final goodbye.
One day moss and grass will cover the cross and it will be almost as though it had never been raised.
When there is no one to care for the commemoration, the that is the day that it slips for memory.
About the Creator
Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred
A Weaver of Tales and Poetry
Join & Share In VSS
Creationati
Call Me Les ♥ Gina ♥ Heather ♥ Caroline ♥
Keep reading
More stories from Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred and writers in Fiction and other communities.
There Can Only Be One
Introduction This is for L.C. Schäfer's November Challenge which you can find out about here. This is a piece of fiction, if you want to take it that way, but I think most of you won't. There may be a poem that comes from this prompt but this has to be fiction.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
The Path to Salvation
The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNAabout 8 hours ago in Fiction
Breakfast
The room was like any I had seen on any episode of Law and Order or other police procedural. They invited me here, said it was voluntary, but I knew it was not. After a while, I lost all track of time. I dozed off and then woke with a start. I’d read somewhere that Thomas Edison slept for an hour or two at a time, around the clock. Not much different from my own bouts insomnia.
By Mindy Reed6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (6)
It's sad when someone tombstone is forgotten. In Asia culture relatives take care of family's grave yearly for the most part. Some cultures bring food to their dead family grave. Thanks for writing this is brought thoughts to think about when my time come. I see why most people cremate instead of burial. Some Indian culture they burn their died family and let it float in the rivers
This is sad
This was so sad. I wish someone would clean and restore it. Loved your story!
Awww, sad. To think that this tombstone was left and will be untended for, breaks my heart.
How sad this is. No tombstone should be left like that. Good work on the short story for it should make people think and remember.
It is the sad passing of time when no one anymore remember. Or maybe it is just the way it must come. I have always said - do not give me a cross or a stone, just let me fly for the wind and remember me in your heart. Some will and someday nobody will ever know that I was. Only some of my words might be read or maybe not. Time will show.