a warm waterproof hip-length jacket usually with a hood, originally worn in polar regions, but now worn for any outdoor activity
(informal, derogatory) a socially inept person with a hobby considered by most people to be boring
Jewel sat astride her palomino horse, clutching the urn full of her husband Kimbel’s ashes. It had been a few weeks since his death. She’d been waiting until the next full moon to fulfill her promise.
The two had met through the Greenbriar Community Theater, a shared love for the dramatic bringing them together and sustaining their marriage for half a century. Together they starred in dozens of plays held in the town’s little black box theater, built in the remains of an old fire station.
On his deathbed, Kimbel clutched her hand and stared into her eyes. His mind seemed to clear for the first time in months.
“Jewel,” he rasped. “When I die, I don’t want a funeral or to be stuffed in a cemetery. Just have me cremated, and scatter my ashes in a manner worthy of the theater.”
So here she sat, stripped of all her clothing and atop a horse. The cool wind blew against her wrinkled skin as she urged the palomino into a run through the center of town, scattering ashes as she rode.
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
rofl.. thanks for that image...
- #2017 Posted 3 years ago
I do what I can :)
- #2018 Posted 3 years ago
Inspired by (sequel to):
The town of Greenbriar sits about thirty miles north of nowhere. Founded in the mid 1800s, the town…Greenbriar RFD
- Published 3 years ago.
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