Outside Wateringbury there is a road sign. For as long as I can remember, a sad bunch of flowers has been tied to it, marking the scene of an accident, a possible death, of which I am entirely unaware. The flowers must wilt soon after being placed there, their slow death echoing the short, sharp eclipse that robbed someone of a loved one, their presence on the verge heavy as grief and maybe heavy as guilt, too.
In sadness, I drive along the road at dusk, my headlights picking up an unfamiliar brightness at the roadside. Tied to the sign is an oblong of white cardboard and on it, in thick, black, capital letters, three words; 'I FORGIVE YOU.'
Moved beyond measure, I start to cry and consider my own hard heart and all those wrongs.
1 comment:
I always feel something in the pit of my stomach when I see flowers or teddy bears at a roadside. A sign like that would have had me in tears as well.
I can no longer get onto the Pole Affair blog as Internet Explorer keeps blocking me, just wanted to say I'm not ignoring you.
Sx
Post a Comment