I stood over their grave and I prayed they’d found a way into heaven.
I knew it was a longshot.
Praying, hoping, they would have gotten in.
But I did I anyway.
I had to do it.
I had to, for myself.
I needed to feel like I’d done something.
Something to help them in the afterlife.
A long shot I know.
But it was what I needed to do.
I had to pray for them.
Even though they would most certainly end up in hell.
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Categories: flash fiction