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september 18th, 2023.

the leaves fell quietly as fall approached, the air sweet with the smell of pumpkins. otto walked among the graves, looking at the ones he knew, which was two too many.

geoff wigington (1989 - 2018)
"a son, a man, a guitarist--rest in peace."
awsten knight (1992 - 2018)
"as fearless in death as his last name."

"hey, buddies." otto said, running a hang through his recently cut hair. he smiled softly, hoping that maybe their spirits could hear him.

"i bought you guys some flowers. you guys like roses, yeah?"

otto sighed, putting the flowers down and placing a hand on the headstones.

"listen, i miss you guys. or 'y'all', as awsten says. well, said. i didn't think i'd ever make it without you guys. i have so far, but barely. i think that your deaths have encouraged me to live for a while, but i don't want to die old and have my spirit be an old coot.

"i think, really, that you two should've gotten help. i just--i was so pissed about this for so long. i still am. it's so fucking selfish to say, but you guys took yourselves away from me. i needed you, geoff, so bad when grace broke up with me. and you, awsten, when geoff died.

"i miss you guys. see you soon."

and otto went home and tied the final knot before he knocked over the chair.

powerless 🌹 gawstenWhere stories live. Discover now