I actually left a copy that I made of this story. I wrote the copy on the spot. If you ever go, you might see it.
The trees grow a golden orange hue as the crisp green fades. Benches lay absolutely covered in love and support of those who sway their heads to the tune of his songs. A light rustle of leaves falling sounds from throughout the woods. Scattered leaves crunch and and groan under the weight of those who roam the grounds, in his name. A feeling of emotion crowds the surrounding area. Tears cloud the eyes of those who remember. Emotion strangles them. The click of a paint pen echoes as messages are left upon the tired and worn bench. Cigarettes and wrinkled paper are left behind. The rumble of a nearby car. The pitter-patter of foot steps. The tears dry and leave behind their paths as the vision slowly fades...
YOU ARE READING
Come As You Are: Stories Written While Visting Washington's Grunge Sites
Short StoryOn my vacation through Washington, I wrote stories while visiting major Grunge sites. These stories are my feelings and descriptions of that exact moment in time. Unedited and raw. Written in that moment, left as they are.
