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Weekly Contest #132
“Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.” Margaret asked the sky. The sky said nothing back. There was silence. Margaret sat, cross-legged, on the usual marble slab in the centre of the graveyard. She tipped her head back and glared at the sky, her hands held cupped before her face. She blinked. And waited. And the sky kept its silence. Margaret let out a sigh. She’d come here nearly every day for the last two years. She stood up and looked down at her mother's tombstone. “Goodbye.” She whispered. She’d been here for t...
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