by Richard Polk

Created on: October 21, 2009

Oct 31, 2009

Dear Susie:

Sitting in a coffee shop just around the block; sipping a green mint latte I see your face gliding through the glass pane windows. Is this the day that I will last see your face? Ever since you took that job in D.C working for a newspaper company; your attitude has completely changed. You were once a care-free person who let life take you where ever it will. In fact I remember once when we were both younger we went (as couples do) to the cemetery behind the railroad tracks where the old buried the young in hopes of a greater harvest the next year. There we showed our love by carving out heart shaped blocks of grass and dirt, confirming our affection for one another with a single kiss and a long nap afterwards. Those were the good times, those were the innocent times. We grew older as the years passed and it seemed that our love would remain the same and it did; perhaps that is where we fell short, our love never growing out of our teenage years. For awhile I had thought that our love would become grow stronger over time especially after that incident two years ago precisely to this date. It was a cold autumn night; we had just taken our younger siblings out on the town to get them their treats early. We hurried them up with the hopes of getting some time to ourselves. Finishing shortly before 9:00pm we dropped them off at home; convincing you to head out to that cemetery so that we can make love. We put the kids in bed, grabbed our coats and headed out the door (Oh how I curse that day). As we were walking down the path to the cemetery we heard some noise up ahead. Grabbing your hand I dragged you into the shrubs and up the steep inclined hill. Stopping at the top we slowly crept forward until we could see into the shallow valley. There we saw several flaming fires with people dressed in dark hoods silently dancing around in three semi-circles that encompassed one another. In the dead center of the three circles were three children whose hands were bound by thick tree roots. To the outside of the circle were three graves freshly dug. As the people danced the kids were screaming. Suddenly there was a commotion, a man who was standing guard pushed three new kids in front of him to the front section of the circle. The priest who was standing on a tall dark log suddenly raised both of his hands in the air. The three circles came to a dead stand still. Pushing the kids forward in front of the priest; the guard took a step backwards and

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