08-15-2019, 09:37 AM
(This post was last modified: 08-15-2019, 09:37 AM by Rose Willaby.)
"My brother did. And got himself killed." Rose finally snapped. "That's why my poor old father responded the way he did. He doesn't want anyone else getting hurt." She moved a little so that she was more in the sun, and would dry faster. "We should work hard where we are and not get crazy ideas in our heads." Simon had had so many crazy ideas. Simon had been such a dreamer. He had been such a misfit. He couldn't accept the life he had been given. And now he lay in an unmarked grave in unconsecrated prison ground, as if annihilated completely. Everyone of them had been reminded of Simon that evening and the paralyzing grief had sat between them unspoken.