The old man’s grave hung like a mist over the whole of the wops. The world was still and soundless. Even the owl that watches over this place had ceased to call its name. Ru-ru. And though it wasn’t cold, an eerie chill possessed us, our breath visible in the night’s light.
My hands shook, my vision blurred and I watched a silhouette of the old man smoke behind the bone tree. One last ciggy