The Watchtower

 




Gripping the bricks with all my strength, my joints within my body ache with a burning desire. A few more struggling moments until I reach the top of the watchtower knowing I am within reach of this small but achievable moment of today. 

The struggle of pushing my body to its limit, the overwhelming desire flowing within my veins is achieved. I stand up panting, slowly lift my head , blinking and regathering my thoughts before looking out across the ocean. The cold breeze gently caressing my skin and I take one look at the sun rising above it and close my eyes and say - 'It was worth it.'

Leia

***  

Looking out of the window, being above the people, traffic, houses and trees, I could see for miles. Breathing in deeply the smell of the room, the dust, the mildew in the corner, the age of the tower. 

The watchtower had been in the town for generations, in my family. My Grandpa would tell stories of how he would watch for planes in the war. But today, I just get to enjoy the rivers and the park. The children were playing not realising that the park had been a place the dead had been put during the war before they went to the graveyard. 

The laughter of the children made me feel a little better. The reason I was in the tower was to spread my grandmother's ashes. She loved coming to the tower in her younger years.

I opened the window, the the urn, the ashes blew out. I smiled. 

Goodbye Grandma - peace be with you. 

Heather


***   




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