By the time I reach you, I am breathless. All the running has dried my tears, and I am tired. I plant myself in front of your headstone. I reach out and touch the letter of your name, my fingertips tracing the engraved E on the cold marble.
Almost instantly, I start crying anew.
"I don't know what to do," I say, pressing my forehead against the cold marble. "I don't know what to do."
Somewhere in the distance, the ducks of Greenwood Park take flight. They take to the sky and make a loud racket. Instead of feeling like I'd been interrupted, I feel relieved. I feel a smile start to form on my lips.
"Thank you," I say, and I stand up to leave. I know exactly where I am headed.
YOU ARE READING
QUACK
Teen FictionEthan seems like your regular teenager. Except he arranges his clothes according to color. He segregates the food on his plate so they don't touch. He knows Crayola colors you've never heard of. He has a strange fascination with Jesus Chirst. He doe...
