Shadows and Regrets

[alidiabin]

Title: Shadows And Regrets
Summary: Then and now

 

Shadows and Regrets

I walk across the neat gravel path. The minute stones make loud rhythmic crunching noises. I cross the wooden threshold. I dance across the emerald sea walking between the neatly spaced black islands. I admire each of the grand offerings a top of each island. My feet bounce across the emerald carpet. I reach my destination an almost midnight coloured gravestone. The smell of freshly mown grass wafts into my nostrils as I kneel at the well presented gravestone. The distant hum of the lawn mowers provides a soundtrack to the somber scene. I extend my ghostly pale hand out to the midnight gravestone. My fingers enchanted by the smooth surface nearly falling off the gravestone due to the lack of friction. When my fingers surrender the fight with the smooth surface they return to my line of vision perhaps a little bit cleaner than before. The palm of my hand rubs the gravestone and my small sticklike fingers begin to trace the plastic white paint sitting on top of the engraving. Slowly though in fact I am perhaps the quickest thing in this cemetery. I trace the name in its entirety dotting the 'I' and crossing the 'T'. I stand up facing the grave now aware of my empty hands. I pan the cemetery eyeing up the other graves all decorated in grand offerings. I am tempted to relocate some flowers from the neighboring grave and clothe the naked grave in front of me. I do a full turn and casually look at each grave considering which flowers I would receive my five finger discount on. My eyes stop at the grave next door I had noticed it out of the corner of my eye previously but as one does with show-off neighbors I chose to ignore it. The black grave is barley visible under the layers of flowers all segregated into bunches. The bold colours bring a lighter mood in this rightfully depressive place. Brightly rainbow coloured windmills stand up right like soldiers guarding the grave. The soft breeze turns them and like an impressive military unit they spin in neat unison. I look at the grave I had come to visit the emerald sea behind it is now covered in a dark cape.

The shadow tells me that it is late in the day. My one regret not bringing an offering that would put the friends and family of the neighboring grave to shame. I bow my head at the grave promising to bring a grand offering and finally out do the neighbors.

I hold the fresh flowers in my hand but I can feel them wilt as I am confronted by the sight of what the gravestone has become. I face the now sun bleached and rain eroded headstone. Guilt washes over me like the frothy ocean over a golden shore at high tide. I kneel to the ground the tallest blade of grass grazes my knee though they all appear to of taken growth steroids. The tall blade deposits a strange vapor on my calf. A mix of canine golden rain and drunks spilt poison remains on my now sun tanned skin. The air smells musty. There is no breeze today. The soundtrack has also changed with time. The lawn mowers solo hum has been replaced by echoes of profanities chorusing from different corners of the cemetery with the loud backing vocals of crude hip hop music. The grave next door is in a far worse state than the one I came to visit however I feel little pride in this fact. The beautiful flowers have long ago become soil. A lone solider windmill still remains though it no longer stands it lays on the ground the rainbow uniform now a faded grey in the sun bleached and rain eroded rubble of the head stone. The soldier's new companion is empty clear bottle. I face the sad reality of the grave I had come to visit and lay me offering before. Though it looks a per cent better than its neighbor it is still in a terrible state. The midnight coloured stone has long ago become sun bleached and rain eroded and has become a road like grey. The gritty headstone scratches my fingertips. My fingers dance across the stone stumbling across the stone like a drunk after a night out. My hands return to my sight filthy and scratched. I trace the name on the engraving the paint long ago chipped off. Fragments of white paint lay like ashes in the grass. I walk backward perhaps in prayer that the grave will return to how it once was if I step back. I close my eyes. My prayers are not answered. The emerald sea has now been covered by black capes behind every gravestone. I straighten my black skirt and rub the grass stains on my knees my palms becoming green. My muddy shoes wade through the emerald sea the blades of grass attacking me like choppy waves. I cross the rotten wood threshold and walk into the muddy gravel path.

I follow the black shadows from the well preserved graves ahead and am reminded how late it is in the day. My one regret has multiplied to an entire list.