Memorial Day
by Wayne Greenough
In trouble you can’t solve? See Thanet
Blake, Private Detective.
All graveyards are sad. Mother and I
visit three of them to pay our respect to those who have gone on. But this
graveyard is different. I keep hearing a male voice. No matter where I look I
can’t see him. I’m cold sober. I haven’t
had a drink since last night. There’s the voice again. Who is it? Why can’t I see the guy?
Blake, Private Detective.
All graveyards are sad. Mother and I
visit three of them to pay our respect to those who have gone on. But this
graveyard is different. I keep hearing a male voice. No matter where I look I
can’t see him. I’m cold sober. I haven’t
had a drink since last night. There’s the voice again. Who is it? Why can’t I see the guy?