random brain jots :]

jot 1

An ocean of black, the muffled sobs of Marcus and his wife as the coffins were lowered into the ground, six feet under. But why bury what's going to the sky? The ground is for sinners; for insufferable reprobates. It pained her to see him like this, weeping pathetically, baring his suffering at god's merciless hand. The same hand that took two from his life, shattering his heart into fractals of memories and love; never to be held as a whole again.

The night was nothing but the ghost of daylight, swallowed by the black and despair. His arms wrapped around her waist as they held each other in the dark apartment. Streetlights glimmering in through the slits of their blinds. No words were exchanged between the two as they sat on the sofa, tears running like faucets, hiccups and wails filling the empty house as time paused for the couple.

[a year later]

It has been twelve months and 13 days since the day Marcus had lost angels, buried deep in the dry soil. If he had only been more careful, more vigilant, they could still be in the arms of the two.

Sometimes he felt like he could hear them. Alas, it was merely the faded cries of lost souls. Here, his eyes met the beautiful initials of the stone before him. He stood there, reminiscing on idyllic memories...

"May death reunite us one day little ones."