The fire had burned low, as pastor Gladwell prayed quietly, the only sound the soft sobbing of friends and loved ones, watching over the corpses first night dead intill the funeral the next day.
He'd only been 19, in his prime, handsome and still beardless, cut down before he'd really begun living.
It had been the ice: the pond had been too thin when he'd run across it after his little brother, and he'd fallen,
dying most likely instantly from shock.
" and in his name, we pray..."
They left, as sorrow draped all in the village, the worst tragedy of their times.
He slept the still sleep of the dead, intill the sun rose over the newly fallen snow at dawn.
They rose early, the men bearing the weight on their broad shoulders, prayers and sobbing echoing in the woods as the headed for the small churchyard in the clearing.
A tree had fallen, and the smallest of the men tripped over a root over~reaching the riverside, dropping his end of the coffin.
It fell to the hard Earth, breaking open, the body tumbling head over heels to the ice.
On impact, the ice shattered like glass, the body lost to the river's chilled depths as the villagers watched in grief.
After a while, they left, drowning in sorrow and loss.
No one saw the ice crack, or the pale hand reach out.
RATED17 FOR: Violence, blood, violent references, brief drinking, and mild language.
The Concord Colony, 1689
The fire had burned low, as pastor Gladwell prayed quietly, the only sound the soft sobbing of friends and loved ones, watching over the corpses first night dead intill the funeral the next day.
He'd only been 19, in his prime, handsome and still beardless, cut down before he'd really begun living.
It had been the ice: the pond had been too thin when he'd run across it after his little brother, and he'd fallen,
dying most likely instantly from shock.
" and in his name, we pray..."
They left, as sorrow draped all in the village, the worst tragedy of their times.
He slept the still sleep of the dead, intill the sun rose over the newly fallen snow at dawn.
They rose early, the men bearing the weight on their broad shoulders, prayers and sobbing echoing in the woods as the headed for the small churchyard in the clearing.
A tree had fallen, and the smallest of the men tripped over a root over~reaching the riverside, dropping his end of the coffin.
It fell to the hard Earth, breaking open, the body tumbling head over heels to the ice.
On impact, the ice shattered like glass, the body lost to the river's chilled depths as the villagers watched in grief.
After a while, they left, drowning in sorrow and loss.
No one saw the ice crack, or the pale hand reach out.
Edited by TheTimidLight