SIDERIUS CLASSIC 100-WORD
COMPETITION, 2024
Every day for the last six months she’s come here, alone, to lay flowers at the grave.
I look from afar as she cries each time. She’s blind, so watching tears come out of unseeing eyes fascinates me.
Somehow she always knows I’m here. Maybe it’s a gift, a consolation from a compassionate universe for the loss of her only child.
But she needs help each time, as she cannot find the vase.
And I would, if only someone would let me out of my own stone tomb.