The man grips the grass and dirt under him. He keeps his head low as he sobs true sorrow on the strange stone. The man speaks in a dehydrated and sob-filled voice, "I'm sorry." He says. The thickest accent of sorrow stings his voice. "I-I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, Anastacia...". The man almost has his whole body on the ground. He sobs uncontrollably and loudly. The moonlight shines down brighter on him as his despair flows from the golden eyes. After ten minutes of crying and nigh screaming, the man stands up, and looks down the dirt path, surround by the gloomy and terrible woods. He wipes one last tear away and sets out down the road. A fire burns in his heart, but not one of rage, but of disparity.
YOU ARE READING
From The Dark, Comes Light.
FantasyA man takes a walk through the deepest depths of his mind. He witnesses old wounds and old days be relived and ripped away.
