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Too Young

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It was the most lonely, haunting place. Which was fitting really for the use of it. Large drooping oak trees hid the ugly, black pointed fence that sealed the place off. It was still a horrible sight. Even the trees were practically dead. Rows of rows of raised stones stuck upright out of the limp, browning grass. There were marble stones for some, all shiny new. And concrete stones for the old ones, their writing faded and practically unreadable. It was a graveyard. In the middle stood a large gum tree, it's thick branches spreading proudly.

In the corner of the yard, a young woman stood, hunched over. She gazed at the polished marble gravestone in front of her. A grimace was pasted onto her perfectly carved, pale face. Deep, rouge lipstick covered her lips. She seemed to sink down into the earth, at least her emotions did. But her calm peacefulness slowly faded. The relaxed mask peeled back to reveal an emotional, grieving wreck. Tears flowed her down her cheeks, her head was bowed forward, her strawberry blonde hair hung down limply.

She was too young to be a widow.



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Kat2292 said...
Jun. 11, 2010 at 8:45 pm:
That was really touching... I could actually picture the scene in my head! You are a great writer judging on this piece alone :) 5 stars! (you deserve it)
 
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