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“It’s been a few years.” The way she said it almost made Buck feel bad for keeping her waiting so long. █
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▀
She was right that the pair hadn’t met up in quite some time - and Buck would insist it was by no fault of
his own, not that he’d imply it was hers.
“Yeah.” There was a long pause between the two, a tense silence that made Buck’s skin crawl. He wasn’t
sure how to break it. What do you say to someone who you haven’t seen in two years? Buck wasn’t sure,
and he was quite certain he would never be. Time passed slow around them. Maybe a minute ticked by,
but in the silence it felt like an eternity. Buck cleared his throat.
“...I kept writin’ in it,” Another pause, perhaps he was still thinking of what to say, but it seemed to
come to him quick after. “The journal, that is, not that you couldn’t figure that yourself. Never stopped
writing what I saw. Felt like the right thing to do, I guess.” He wasn’t sure what response he wanted from
that. Maybe he was just clearing the air. It didn’t really matter either way.
He set the journal between them, a bookmark indicating his most relevant entry. Buck knew Eve couldn’t
resist reading it, even despite the somber tone of their meeting - and sure enough she picked it up after
only a moment's hesitation, hastily flipping through his writing until she reached the marked passage.
Such a show almost made Buck smile.
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x/x/xx
I had been in town for a long while, longer than my last visit, or maybe any visit since I’d
skipped town after... well, it don’t rightly matter why I left. I didn’t like stickin’ around for
more than a day or two. I didn’t like headin’ back at all, for that matter. I guess I was just
searchin’ for something and it lead me there.
Father Abbey had caught me in conversation, which I normally wasn’t too keen on, and I
can’t say I was then either. I guess it was all that time my mother spent teachin’ me how to
show proper respect that made me keep talking. What he had to say didn’t concern me none,
but I made damn sure to listen. Something about being in my hometown made me want to
act more proper.
He went on for awhile about every little thing that had happened at the church while I’d
been gone, most of it unremarkable and more of it boring. It wasn’t ‘till he struck on the
topic of the church graveyard that I took an interest. Couldn’t rightly tell you why I was so
interested in hearing about the old, crumbling gravestones he described, but it had certainly
caught my attention.
I reckon he could tell I was listenin’ up then, so he kept on goin’ on about it. He told me how
just the other week one of the stones cracked right down the middle, and even though it
was still standing it was clear it wouldn’t be for long. He told me about the moss growing on
the farthest graves, the ones no one visited any longer.
I wasn’t sure how long he’d been talking, but after a long while he said he’d have to be
going. I told him I would too, even though I’m sure he already knew I was lying through my
teeth. After he was gone from sight I stood stock-still for a while.
I looked towards the sun that had been making its steady decline since we’d been talking,
and took note that it wasn’t far from sunset. It must’ve been pure luck that it was acting as
a compass, pointin’ me right where I was headed. I set off at a slow pace and made my way
right over to the church.
The oldest gravestones sat cozy in the small courtyard north of the church, but you could
see hundreds dotting the hill behind, both new and old. My hometown was small, but it was
old, and it had seen so many different people over the course of its life.
│I had been in town for a long while, longer than my last visit, or maybe any visit since I’d
skipped town after... well, it don’t rightly matter why I left. I didn’t like stickin’ around for
more than a day or two. I didn’t like headin’ back at all, for that matter. I guess I was just
searchin’ for something and it lead me there.
Father Abbey had caught me in conversation, which I normally wasn’t too keen on, and I
can’t say I was then either. I guess it was all that time my mother spent teachin’ me how to
show proper respect that made me keep talking. What he had to say didn’t concern me none,
but I made damn sure to listen. Something about being in my hometown made me want to
act more proper.
He went on for awhile about every little thing that had happened at the church while I’d
been gone, most of it unremarkable and more of it boring. It wasn’t ‘till he struck on the
topic of the church graveyard that I took an interest. Couldn’t rightly tell you why I was so
interested in hearing about the old, crumbling gravestones he described, but it had certainly
caught my attention.
I reckon he could tell I was listenin’ up then, so he kept on goin’ on about it. He told me how
just the other week one of the stones cracked right down the middle, and even though it
was still standing it was clear it wouldn’t be for long. He told me about the moss growing on
the farthest graves, the ones no one visited any longer.
I wasn’t sure how long he’d been talking, but after a long while he said he’d have to be
going. I told him I would too, even though I’m sure he already knew I was lying through my
teeth. After he was gone from sight I stood stock-still for a while.
I looked towards the sun that had been making its steady decline since we’d been talking,
and took note that it wasn’t far from sunset. It must’ve been pure luck that it was acting as
a compass, pointin’ me right where I was headed. I set off at a slow pace and made my way
right over to the church.
The oldest gravestones sat cozy in the small courtyard north of the church, but you could
see hundreds dotting the hill behind, both new and old. My hometown was small, but it was
old, and it had seen so many different people over the course of its life.
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I set on towards the hill, further and further still until I found the mossy graves the Father
had been describing to me. I wasn’t sure what I thought I would find out there, but I could
feel a pit forming in my stomach. I tried to read the names on the stones but those that
weren’t covered by the moss had been worn away by time, all aside from one.
The dates had been worn away just like the names, but you could tell how old they were by
looking at them. I wondered for a moment about who they were once, but I came to the
conclusion quick that it wasn’t worth wonderin’. They had been long forgotten. Nothing I
could come up with would change that fact.
I stayed there until the moon rose high, showering its beam of ghostly light down on the
hillside. There was a slight chill in the air that finally encouraged me to head back towards
the inn, where I might address the sudden hunger I felt.
I ended up spendin’ the rest of the night in the run-down old bar two buildings down from
the inn, until sleep finally called me and I couldn’t do nothin’ but answer. When I woke the
next morning I decided it was high time I moved on and left town.
Before I left I saw the Father again, though this time we didn’t speak as he was right busy
fixin’ a window on the church. He waved and smiled but I couldn’t muster enough spirit to
do the same back. S’pose my mother’s teachings didn’t stick with me as well as I thought.
The outskirts of town passed by quickly, and soon I found myself on open road again.
Occasionally things would catch at my eye and I’d stop for a spill, but it was often nothin’
more than my eyes playing tricks. As I walked I realized that the pit that’d formed in my
stomach the other day had never quite gone away.
I was used to walkin’ quite a distance from all my years wanderin’, but for the first time in
years I could feel an ache in my legs and the sweat on my brow. I wanted nothin’ more than
to set down by the roadside and rest for awhile, but somethin’ in me wouldn’t allow me the
relief. I could feel an invisible weight on my back that made it harder to keep on walking
but my mind wouldn’t let me stop - so I did the only thing that I could.
I walked on.
│had been describing to me. I wasn’t sure what I thought I would find out there, but I could
feel a pit forming in my stomach. I tried to read the names on the stones but those that
weren’t covered by the moss had been worn away by time, all aside from one.
The dates had been worn away just like the names, but you could tell how old they were by
looking at them. I wondered for a moment about who they were once, but I came to the
conclusion quick that it wasn’t worth wonderin’. They had been long forgotten. Nothing I
could come up with would change that fact.
I stayed there until the moon rose high, showering its beam of ghostly light down on the
hillside. There was a slight chill in the air that finally encouraged me to head back towards
the inn, where I might address the sudden hunger I felt.
I ended up spendin’ the rest of the night in the run-down old bar two buildings down from
the inn, until sleep finally called me and I couldn’t do nothin’ but answer. When I woke the
next morning I decided it was high time I moved on and left town.
Before I left I saw the Father again, though this time we didn’t speak as he was right busy
fixin’ a window on the church. He waved and smiled but I couldn’t muster enough spirit to
do the same back. S’pose my mother’s teachings didn’t stick with me as well as I thought.
The outskirts of town passed by quickly, and soon I found myself on open road again.
Occasionally things would catch at my eye and I’d stop for a spill, but it was often nothin’
more than my eyes playing tricks. As I walked I realized that the pit that’d formed in my
stomach the other day had never quite gone away.
I was used to walkin’ quite a distance from all my years wanderin’, but for the first time in
years I could feel an ache in my legs and the sweat on my brow. I wanted nothin’ more than
to set down by the roadside and rest for awhile, but somethin’ in me wouldn’t allow me the
relief. I could feel an invisible weight on my back that made it harder to keep on walking
but my mind wouldn’t let me stop - so I did the only thing that I could.
I walked on.
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