Dark Was the Night Essay

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Dark was the night. Sarah Thueson It was almost dark. I knew I had barely 20 minutes before it was too late. So I acted quickly. I wrapped my neck with scarves, my body with sweaters, my fingers with mitten. My head with my hat. It really wasn’t all that cold, but I wanted it to be winter by now. Plus, I felt the occasion required out of the ordinary clothes. I walked fast; like I always do. The souls of my shoes have gone missing, and I thought about how my nice white socks were probably getting dirty. That was ok. I winded through the neighboring neighborhoods. Cars passed; and I didn’t wave. I walked through the grass of the cemetery; it was long and covered my shoes. My arms were folded. I wanted to show respect. I stood at the end of your grass; the grass that was dug up only a few months ago. I could still see the outline were they lowered your casket. There was a little metal plate, which reads, Bryce E Nielsen. Your gravestone still hasn’t arrived. I’m ok with that. You’re still there. I stood there looking at the grass outlines, looking at the plate, looking at the almost dark sky. No sunset tonight. It was almost winter and the air felt like my cold kitchen floor. The kind of cold that almost challenges you to until you give up. I was still far into this race with the air. I laid myself down, on top of your grass; my head above your head, my back above your back. I thought about how you are only 4 or 10 feet below me. I lay there, thinking about you; thinking about me and my problems. This was the first moment I could confront you with peace. I put my mittens inside my mouth so I could warm my fingers. I stood up, my hat was still were my head used to be. I thought about leaving it for you. I didn’t, because I remembered how it’s windy and it will be lost; but mostly because it’s probably warm inside your casket. The yellow flowers that

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