Kingdom of Ash

But Manon did not look. Even when the
leaders who had come with her, walked with
her all this way, began to lay their flowers
upon the blasted, bloodied earth. Even when
their tears flowed, dropping into the ashes
alongside their offerings of tribute.
They didn’t speak. And neither did the
streaming line of people who came after them.
A few bore flowers, but many brought small
stones to lay on the site. Those who had
neither laid down whatever personal effects
they could offer. Until the blast site was
covered, as if a garden had grown from a field
of blood.
Glennis stayed until the end.
And when they were alone on the silent
battlefield, Manon’s great-grandmother put a
hand on her shoulder and said quietly, her
voice somehow distant, “Be the bridge, be the
light. When iron melts, when flowers spring