Post by Redgrim on Jan 26, 2014 1:57:06 GMT -5
For a cold winter’s day, the breeze was kept to a minimum. Anyone who had spent as much time outdoors as Cathal would appreciate the days where it was tolerably cold. The only thing that kept him at a cozily warm temperature was the thick flannel jacket he wore. The day was like any other, he looked no cleaner and his stench reminded many why showering daily was the norm. Though being within the personal predicament he was in his complexion and cleanliness was the least of his worries.
The Graveyard was at a peaceful quiet level, there were a few people wandering around and paying their respects to those who had passed away, but they were few and far in between. Every other week Cathal visited the burial ground holding a couple of collected flowers in his fist, none of them matching. He was around so often that he could nearly identify each person who visited during the same time as he did.
The powdery snow that swept in between his feet left a small cloud behind every foot step. His head was lowered as he wandered further into the field of tombstones until he happened upon a familiar name that he used as a vantage point whenever he visited. He followed down the path of the semi-neatly set graves until yet again he found a familiar name, it was half covered in snow, but he knew its position well enough to know it was the right one. Cathal fell to his knees, the appearance of it seeming as though his legs just gave away. He wiped the snow off the grave stone and gently placed his mismatched bouquet at the foot of the display.
He sobbed for a moment or two and stood back up to brush off the snow that clung to his clothes. The sound of the church bell gonging echoed in the backdrop as the boy slowly made his movements down the rows of tombstones.
The Graveyard was at a peaceful quiet level, there were a few people wandering around and paying their respects to those who had passed away, but they were few and far in between. Every other week Cathal visited the burial ground holding a couple of collected flowers in his fist, none of them matching. He was around so often that he could nearly identify each person who visited during the same time as he did.
The powdery snow that swept in between his feet left a small cloud behind every foot step. His head was lowered as he wandered further into the field of tombstones until he happened upon a familiar name that he used as a vantage point whenever he visited. He followed down the path of the semi-neatly set graves until yet again he found a familiar name, it was half covered in snow, but he knew its position well enough to know it was the right one. Cathal fell to his knees, the appearance of it seeming as though his legs just gave away. He wiped the snow off the grave stone and gently placed his mismatched bouquet at the foot of the display.
He sobbed for a moment or two and stood back up to brush off the snow that clung to his clothes. The sound of the church bell gonging echoed in the backdrop as the boy slowly made his movements down the rows of tombstones.