Apple and a tree

Isla ~

The scent of damp earth and grass filled my senses. At least, tha was the only scent I could pinpoint.

I stood there, still as stone, my eyes fixed on the fresh heap of sand piled over the grave. The reddish-pink glow of the setting sun brushed across the burial ground, painting everything in muted, sorrowful tones. And it really should have been a beautiful scenery.

But it felt like standing at the edge of a wound that hadn't closed properly.

The chirping of crickets echoed through the quiet field, blending with the soft rustle of trees swaying gently in the evening breeze. But I barely heard any of it. My thoughts were too loud.

My heart too heavy.

"Father," I whispered...just the word, nothing more. It tasted bitter.

My arms were crossed tight across my chest, as though holding myself together was all I could do to stop from unraveling right there. No one else had stayed long after the burial. A handful of people had shown up, mostly out of obligation, with stiff hugs and