The year is 2115.
The night is silent.
The street is bare.
The wind is still.
The grave yard is full... of stones. Big, small, short, tall... yet, just stones. It's an old cemetery. Not touched by present culture. Never to be touched by present culture.
Our destination is behind the mossy black gates. To the stone of a soul you may know. This stone isn't secluded on a lonely hill nor is it a great impressive sight. It's flat upon the muddy, grassy, ground. A two feet by two and a half feet slab of gray green stone. The name? Hidden beneath moss or faded by time. All that can be seen is T...ana .....el ...own.... Dates? 1995 - 2... The rest faded by time. And that's all the information to be given. No words of any success, no type of description of what they were like. No tale of what happen to the journals of stories written by the decaying hands.
Nothing.
Far away... Ages away... Realms away... In the land where the forgotten go... A single soul draws her wings in upon herself, to hide herself from all eyes. Beautiful, stunning golden tears run down her cheek. Her face the definition of sorrow and you can hear the ache of her heart. Decades after her death, she looks the most memorable she's ever been.... with no one to see...
A soul forgotten.
That is my worst fear.
