Lest We Forget

Ceylan stood in silence while Nesrin planted a circle of poppies. She was there mainly for her sister. Ceylan had been in the hidden realm for the War; she hadn’t seen it personally like Nesrin had. Neither spoke, and Nesrin didn’t look up from the flowers, but Ceylan did notice this was the first year Nesrin hadn’t wept while she worked.

Nesrin didn’t stand when she finished. She just looked out over the European landscape, her eyes looking through the present into the past. “I should have cried.”

Ceylan didn’t respond except to put a hand on her sister’s shoulder.

“The things… the people I let… I don’t deserve for the wounds to heal. I should have cried.”

Ceylan shifted closer. “Do you still remember what happened?”

“Too vividly.”

They stood in silence for a moment.

“Would you let it happen again?”

Nesrin breathed out the response like a sacred oath. “Never.”

“Then you’re still doing all you should.”

Nesrin looked up at her sister, then nodded as a single tear fell.

Published by

David Wesley Woolverton

I recently completed the masters program at the University of South Alabama with a concentration in creative writing. I completed my undergraduate work at Spring Hill College in 2017 with a double major in creative writing and theology. My primary interests include trains, books, and daydreaming. I grew up in the Fowl River area of Alabama surrounded by family members telling stories, which is where my love of my craft began.

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