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One

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What does it help?

What does it help to remember and reflect?

Questions circle inside my mind as I walk away from the community center.

It was a well-organized ceremony.

Everything went well.

People dressed up for their positions.

Reflective words were said by officials who were well-practiced in the fine art of sounding sincere.

The few veterans able to attend gazed at the stage of rotating speakers with sad watery eyes.

What horrible images they saw in their minds I can only imagine.

Still, what does it help to dwell on all those things?

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Pavement passes beneath the feet that carry me toward my home.

A modest house on a street lined with trees stripped bare by the chill of autumn.

Isn’t it better to simply let go of the past?

The yellow leaves strewn about the street are all that remains of the green summer.

What does it help to cling to them?

They are only a faint semblance of what they used to be.

What relevance do they have to the season I am in now?

The November sky above me is a dull grey.

What this street really needs is some color. After all, Christmas is around the corner. We need to start living like it.

I survey my house, imagining the sparkling light show I will create on the canvas of plain brown walls.

As I do, my phone begins vibrating in my pocket.

I pull the gadget out and examine the glowing white screen.

“I know what you did.”

I blink as I examine the message.

“Who is this?” I type in reply and hit send.

There is no response.

A cold wind runs through my head of blonde hair as I scan the street for a sign of life.

The phone vibrates once again.

A shiver runs through me as I look at the gadget once again.

“Come to the bakery.”

“Who is this?” I type and hit send.

Once again, there is no reply.

Apparently, the past has relevance for today after all.

Could they really know about…huh…it doesn’t seem possible. It was so long ago…

I examine the house as a sigh flutters through my parched lips. Well, I’ll have to put my plans for Christmas decorating on hold and head downtown.

It’s a small town. It won’t take long to find out what’s going on.

The wind begins to pick up speed as I walk away from my home. I pull my coat closer, searching for some sort of warmth.

All the while memories flood into my mind. Memories I have long tried to suppress…

To be continued…

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