Fallen Ficleteers

(for Ficlets survivors, this is how I felt when I found Ficly)

I looked around at the thousands of grey headstones looking like the foam on the waves of a sea of forgotten places. There is Nouvelle Bardot; I place a flower on her grave. Rest in peace, Fritz and Zooey. Oh and there is YodaOnCrack! I kneel down at his headstone, touching the letters with aged fondness, after all-I still think of Moondust when it rains.

I go past row after row, seeing the names of old identities gone and lost…and then there’s me; all my work buried here with my identity. The one that existed in that perfect community… before.

I want to cry at the sight. Surrounded by all the characters I miss and my own character I wish I could be again…

“Hey!” Someone calls from the gate. “Did you hear? Service for us is being held at Ficly Chapel. We’re not all dead yet!”

I can’t believe it! With shaky fingers I navigate away from the Ficlets Memorial page and go to towards saving graces.

I gasp—it’s Stovohobo!

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