My Sexy Saturday

Have you ever visited a graveyard to see the stone where someone you loved was buried?  Of course, we all have.  But, what if you knew that the person wasn't dead, and that their death had been faked while they were placed in witness protection?  Would you still go even if doing so might place you in danger?

Here is a snippet from my soon to be released novella "Borealis Ardor" which will be available February 7 at  https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/our-authors/66-our-authors/authors-p/411-kay-phoenix. 


     “You shouldn’t be here, Lauren.  Leave quickly.” The voice stopped me in my tracks.  It was David’s voice, in my head.  But, I shrugged it off and walked forward until I saw the new stone and the rectangle of earth in front of it that had noticeably less pine needles than the surrounding area.

     I knelt beside it.

     “David Alan Wagner.  Beloved Son, Brother and Friend.”  The lines of the letters were etched deep and black, contrasting heavily against the light grey stone.  I gently lay the roses down and traced the letters with my finger.  There was a cross carved below the words.  I ran my hand along the entire edge of the top of the stone, feeling the rough edges in contrast to the freshly polished front and back.  I wondered how long the stone had been there.  Dad assured me he had taken care of the funeral expenses, and he must have made sure there was a rush order on the headstone.  There was a fresh bouquet of white roses lying at the base of the stone and it made me feel deeply saddened for his family, as well as for him.  As much as dad irritated the living hell out of me with his overprotective gestures, if I had to disappear forever and have him think I was dead, it would break my heart.  After we lost mom, we were all the family we had.

     I loved David with my whole heart.  Even though we had only been together for two of the six months that he was assigned to me, I knew that he was the “one”.  I just knew it.  There was no explanation.  And, I was the “one” for him as well.  But, now he was gone, and it was unlikely that I would see him again, at least not any time soon.

     I reached up to trace the “D” again and saw a strange light flash across the polished surface of the stone, which I realized with horror to be a set of headlights.

     Who would be coming to a graveyard at this hour? Besides me of course? Teenagers with a Ouija board and bottle of Strawberry Hill wine in tow, perhaps.

     I could take no chances.  I could have been followed.

 

My Sexy Saturday ( http://www.mysexysaturday.blogspot.com/ ) is a place for authors to showcase snippets of their sexy works with 7 words, 7 sentences, or 7 paragraphs.