originally published by firewords uk

 The man in the pea coat punched the tombstone until his knuckles shattered. He bandaged the hand with his sock and sat on the cold earth with one bare foot. He spoke of hate and love and regret and forgiveness, of how much his hand hurt and how small the world had become. He asked if he remembered the time they argued so loud it silenced them for decades; or when they were kids chasing butterflies instead of demons, when life tasted less bitter. He asked him to come back so they could start over again, somewhere in the middle.