Written for Haibun Thinking. For some other stories click on the blue frog at the bottom of this post.
His father died in 2006. He wasn’t yet forty when he took his life.
He went home for his memorial service. The once small town had grown quite large in his absence. Shops filled what before were decaying buildings. The tourist trade had accounted for this turn around he thought. Most of the roads were paved now, including the old rutted main street that he remembered. Strangers were everywhere but no old friends were to be found.
There was a fine restaurant where the butcher was previously located. Yet the town still seemed almost the same to him. The family old church still stood at the end of the alley. More tourist now than congregation.
His mother and his eldest sister had died at the age of fifty-five. He knows he is living on borrowed time. Perhaps he has the way to end things on his terms. He continues on.
twilight looms again
another gloomy day gone
the night is his friend