Once upon a time, there were two happy sisters – twins, in fact. They went by the names of Alice and Mary. Every day they used to run out and explore the world, exploding with youthful energy and laughter, keen to see everything there was to see. They would scamper into the forest, climbing up trees, calling for birds and crawling through the undergrowth. Sometimes they picked up some twigs and pretended they were swords, fighting dragons, gremlins and giant caterpillars, always to emerge victorious. They built dens from fallen branches and the bed of leaves underfoot, even camping out in them on warm summer nights. It was a good life. A happy life. Neither would last forever.
One day Mary snapped a twig off a tree. There were none lying on the ground. She didn’t win the battle that day. The others triumphed.
“What of Alice? Where was she?” asked their older brother, as they all huddled together on the hard ground. He stared at his parents, but their eyes were as grey as the cold stone he was so desperately clinging to. He hadn’t even read the inscription yet. A heavy mist settled, and the family disappeared in the gloomy twilight.
~ Jordan Strobach-Morris, 21.11.2015