There’s a cemetery east of town. It’s small, just a fence guarding some grass.
I’m the only one who visits the cemetery and its single grave.
Dad earned his place in Arlington, but chose this simple dirt plot, saying,
“It’s like the ones in distant lands, where my brothers sleep.”
John Fowler served twenty years in the US Air Force before retiring and starting a second career in the IT field. He is also a Lay Pastor serving a small church near his home in Texas. His hobbies include reading, golfing, writing, and now oil painting.
Mr Fowler,
Wow, so touching !
Thank you for your service.
JT
I think, Pastor Fowler, that I’d like to go to your church.
It says so much. Great story.
Beautiful, brings tears to my eyes, story.
So touching John!
Very touching John it speaks volumes.
The strength of this lovely story lies in its brevity.
2/10 Wow! Looks like you touched on som’ink there, boy! Personally, I thought, yeah! That’s good… ‘good enough for Government work’ as my Grandpa used to say… liked the line ‘ It’s small, just a fence guarding some grass.’ ..has a feeling to it. But still only a 2/10. (sorry folks!)
Dear John: No matter what people say, I think that your story is a precious gem. 10/10 in my opinion. Thanks for the uplift in brevity! Here’s my response in a haiku fragment. “Death embraces, Unknown dirt patch; Hero goes home” RIP. Leon, Singapore.