Friday Fictioneers – Sept., 28, “Pagoda”

“Pagoda”

It was our ‘pagoda,’ just an old stone shrine in San Francisco’s China Town. We stood here declaring our love, thirty years ago.

Today, I stand alone with a tattered copy of our vows to each other, reading mine, shaking, and weeping with every spoken word or phrase.

Only the silence answers me back.

The birds sing their woeful song to my grief-stricken soul.

Our wedding day. We laughed, running to catch the trolley car when he fell, got caught underneath, and was crushed to death.

I never remarried.

“Clang! Clang!”

The death knell of that hated trolley.

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Posted September 27, 2012 by Joyce in Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Short Fiction, Writing

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