First off, it seems that the Fuckboys have been resurfacing. There have been a few reports have of them at various locations. It hasn’t been enough for us to do anything about it, though.
Second, I finally went to visit my mother’s grave today.
It took me a while to get to the cemetery, and almost just as long to find her tombstone. It was in a row with others who I didn’t know. I could tell that it had aged; the sun lit up the cracks spreading through it, a chunk was missing from the top right corner. But it was still hers all the same, and I knew her body, or at least her bones, were underneath it.
I sat down for a long time, until after the sun went down. I saw humans come and go, leaving flowers for their loved ones. No one came near me until the late afternoon. I was sitting, lost in thought, when a shadow fell over the ground in front of me. I was startled when I saw that it was a human shadow, thinking it might be a Fuckboy. I jumped up, ready to attack, but then I saw who it was. I was shocked.
It was Emory, holding a bouqet of flowers. They laid the flowers in front of the tombstone, their eyes dim with sorrow. “Happy Monday, Katherine. How have you been? It’s been a nice week for me. The grandkids are still lively as ever. I hope you’re getting the peace you deserve.” They stopped, tearing up. “I went to Marty’s grave yesterday, like I always do on Sundays. I still miss him, you know? Both of you were amazing people.” They patted the tombstone. “I’ll see you next week, Kate,” they said, and walked away.
I sat back down, my back against another tombstone, and cried. I don’t know for how long. I had no idea that Emory still cared that much.
-M A R T Y
Ashton Rose 