I grew up quickly that spring, not because I wanted too, but because I had no choice. The prairie land demands maturity, crops grow on blood and toil not wishes.
Fair enough.
I sprinkle soil from our land onto the casket before it lowers, and read the verse he always loved. One accident and I turned from a boy to a man, it was that simple.
As the sun drops beneath the distant horizon, so does my soul. In the morning when it rises, so too shall I.
Damn, how I love and hate this land.
Jason
About the Creator
JBaz
I have enjoyed writing for most of my life, never professionally.
I wish to now share my stories with others, lets see where it goes.
Born and raised on the Canadian Prairies, I currently reside on the West Coast. I call both places home.
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