we drove into the cemetery, rannon and i. we drove to where she remembered him to rest. a little white cross, the last time she saw. i’d never visited. a lump blocked my throat, my skin became cold, scared of my reaction. she couldn’t see it, where she remembered him to rest.

she took a map and a guide from the machine. plot 2876. acacia b. we walked to the row where it said he would be. looked for his name. i flinched when something caught my eye, a dripping tap in the distance. the day was darkening. my anxiousness heightening.

we looked on all the headstones, on all the brass plaques on the ground. we wandered back and forth, we wondered between each other. we looked for his name.

she saw it first. 


a small, oval shaped, brass marking, maybe an inch wide, stamped with the numbers. hidden behind the grass. an empty space above it.


one thing left of him, the only thing that told the world where his body was kept.

we sat on the concrete at the head of his grave, side by side, three dead flowers wrapped in silver between us. he was there. unmarked. he was there.

ran walked off. i sat. i spoke. i’m sorry i didn’t visit sooner. i hope you’re doing well out there. she came back with a smile and some pink flowers in her hand. i stood up. she lay them in front of 2876. he was there.


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