He was a friend of mine. I bought his headstone and put him in the earth.
His parents were poor, but I was sure he wouldn’t have had even a wooden marker tied with twine.
He’d been kind to me at the stamp mill, seen me as an equal, a confidant. We were to be married, a convenience to him and freedom to me, if God hadn’t chosen to take him home. His parents were ever grateful that I was willing to hide their ‘mistake.’
But how could John’s life be a mistake when I loved him so deeply?
This was written for this week’s historical Carrot Ranch Prompt on Cora Kingston and John Yendow. I’ve taken ENORMOUS liberties with John’s life and Cora’s sensibilities, but who knows?