The Journey

Ambling lazily as usual, I rested for a moment on the crumbling dry stone dyke and watched clouds gather. I turned the flowers in my hand over once more, examining them closely. Would she like them? Would the rain start before I got there? Would I manage back up the hill at all? Did it matter?

I heard the bells of the old church chime eleven times. One more to go, I thought.

When I got there, I laid the flowers down, where none were there before and said my last farewell. It was time to go, rest in peace.

Advertisements

Author: George McDermid

I scratch out poems, and the odd little tale. Mostly for my own amusement.

2 thoughts on “The Journey”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s