"I remember you told me this is what you do in your culture," I say aloud to the still air. It's cold in this part of the country, as usual. I hadn't wanted to come back - not after what had happened. Not after what I had done. And not if I couldn't see Lily.
See, the years I'd stayed here, she had always been here with me - from my first day of school to my last day at the airport. Even though I'd hurt her, she still came to say goodbye. Lily was just the most human person I'd ever met.
She was like a part of this country for me, and to come back to it without her was like going to a candy shop that didn't sell confectionery.
But my urges were too strong. I missed the food, the loud talking everywhere, and a voice deep inside me had told me that I needed to pay my respects. I had to make it up to her. With a grunt, I drag a clay pot used for burning from the corner and unwrap the plastic bags I'd brought with me.
For you, Lily.
YOU ARE READING
combustion
Kısa HikayeWhen paper burns, it doesn't just turn to ashes. This is the story of Lily and Keaton. Of the boy who was hopelessly lost, and of the girl who was his oasis in a sea of strangers. Most of all, of how he found himself turning paper to ashes.
