This Flash Fiction piece is part of a series. The first piece, ‘The Graveyard’s Graveyard’ sets the scene. They do not have to be read together.
Flash Fiction, a short story written in 100 words or less.
I am drawn forward despite the unease. My feet move seemingly on their own ignoring my brain’s protests, moving deeper into the pile of leaves and destruction. I am ankle deep in rotted foliage and misplaced offerings, my shoes covered.
A dull and still beautiful red catches my eye. I crouch low again, careful not to step on the already broken gifts. Two roses with their perfect petals wet and washed dull by the sun stand out.
I am invading, disturbing the peace (and pieces) with each step and click of my camera.
It is beautiful and sad.
And wrong.
The (Western) Canadian 