The Only Memorial
The snow crunched beneath Vedanji Templin's boots, as she walked across the practice yard. Her breath turned to steam, but she barely felt the cold. It didn't compare with the empty space that had settled behind her breastbone.
She walked to the hall. Passed the door, and walked around the outside. Her eyes drifted across the names carved into the wood.
Centuries ago, someone had carved the name of their fallen partner outside the door, and over the years, it had become tradition.
Nobody else would remember the Rangers that fell.
Vedanji found an empty space, and began to carve.
copyright Kit Russell, 2009
She walked to the hall. Passed the door, and walked around the outside. Her eyes drifted across the names carved into the wood.
Centuries ago, someone had carved the name of their fallen partner outside the door, and over the years, it had become tradition.
Nobody else would remember the Rangers that fell.
Vedanji found an empty space, and began to carve.
copyright Kit Russell, 2009